Wild Child
by burningSunset
Summary: A new family of hobbits settles in Buckland. Their arrival turns upside down the childhood lives of Frodo, Merry and Pippin, and will set in motion the events that will lead to the participation of wolves in the War of the Ring (AU) FrodoxOC
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: Original canon characters all belong to Mr. Tolkien. There are too many for me to list, but if you are a Lord of the Rings fan, you'll be familiar with them as they appear. _Wild Child_ is alternate universe (AU) fiction, meaning it will not follow the original book/movie plot. Personally, I have found exploring the what-ifs opens the door to more possibilities and creativity. My creation and contribution to this story is Allie, her family and the wolves. However, as you read on, everything and everyone will entwine together in a single story that will take you along on an enjoyable ride.

**Warning:** There are touchy subjects such as child abuse, bullying, and violent fight scenes, but those themes are only small passages in the grand scheme of the story (at least so far, since I haven't finished the story yet). But no, seriously, it will mostly be rated T.

Also, I'm starting a massive rewrite of the earlier chapters because let's face it, some of them could be much better! I would like to thank and credit **Jennyslaw** for beta-reading this story. Thanks for enriching the background and the characters, and improving the overall writing. You're awesome!

Now that all that stuff's been said, let's begin!

* * *

**WILD CHILD**

**by burningSunset**

* * *

_Now halt your minds_

_and listen to their cry_

_From Northern alters_

_formed of snow and ice,_

_Beneath celestial curtains_

_in their sky,_

_The wolves give evensong_

_of sacrifice._

~John Hubbard Bidwell~

**Prologue**

Frodo Baggins was ten years old when he first met Allie Brandybuck, but following that meeting he would not remember for a long time it was then he had seen her for the first time.

On that hot mid-summer evening, Frodo was half-asleep with his head resting against his father's shoulder blades as the latter carried him on his back. His mother walked beside them, with one hand on her husband's arm and the other carrying a basket of groceries. Their pace was steady as they made their way toward Buck Hill.

Tired from playing in the fields all day, Frodo was now too sleepy to eat the apple clenched in his small hand. In a half-daze, he listened as his parents, Drogo and Primula, conversed quietly, their voices mingling with the buzzing bees and chirping cicadas on the side of the road and among the trees. The setting sun projected its last rays of warmth on his back and head. Slumber edged closer and closer as he silently counted his father's thumping steps on the dirt paved country road.

_One. Two. One. Two. _

Frodo's hand relaxed and the uneaten apple slid from his weak grasp. It made a hollow thumping sound as it met the earth and subsequently started rolling down the hill, an irregular ball of vibrant red coursing through the green.

Primula whirled around, laughing, to chase after the rolling apple, but someone else beat her to it as a small foot intercepted the apple's course further down the steep and sinewy road.

It was a young hobbit lass in a yellow shirt and brown trousers. After she picked up the apple, she stood there watching the two adults and their sleeping boy, seeming uncertain about what to do. Finally, she threw a cursory look behind her shoulder and walked up the hill to meet Drogo half-way.

When she was at his level, she extended the fruit to the middle-aged hobbit with the boy on his back.

Drogo smiled down at her warmly, offering his thanks as he took back what his son had dropped. At that moment, Frodo cracked his eyes open and slit and managed to make out a mass of curly blonde hair before father shifted the weight of him on his back and reinserted the fruit into his hand.

"Be careful with it, son," his father cautioned, but not without kindness.

Frodo blinked the sleep from his eyes and nodded. Through his vision half-blurred with sleep, he saw the girl had lifted her face to look at him with one hand raised to her forehead to shield her eyes from the blinding rays of the setting sun. Even though he couldn't make out her face, he smiled anyway.

"Hello," he said.

The hobbit lass tried to make out his face as well, but the red glare of the setting sun obscured everything but his silhouette merging with that of his father.

"Hello," she answered. And then she was gone, sprinting away towards the sound of galloping hooves and the creaking of a cart.


	2. The New Neighbors

**PART I: BUCKLAND**

* * *

**The New Neighbors**

Merry Brandybuck heard the news while sitting on a comfortable chair in a section of Brandy Hall the grownups allowed their children to wander. He was resting his legs after roaming about the hills all day, when his father's strong voice drifted to him from an adjacent room.

Out of habit, Merry strained his ears to listen, but it seemed Saradoc Brandybuck was simply going about the usual business (and gossip) of his land as he told two other hobbits about a new family settling down in Bucklebury, the village at the foot of Buck Hill.

Since it wasn't unusual for hobbit families to move around, this piece of news held little interest to Merry at first. Continuing to listen, something did finally peak his interest.

"You would never guess where they come from," his father said. "Not from Hobbiton or even Greenfield. No, they don't come from any of the four Farthings."

A low string of murmurs followed his words. The Shire was divided into four Farthings west of the Brandywine River. If the new family didn't come from any of those four, then they were not from the Shire. And all respectable hobbits lived in the Shire, as far as Merry knew.

"Where from, then?" one of the hobbits asked.

"Bree," Saradoc dropped the word almost carefully.

Merry stifled a gasp. Bree was a town beyond the Eastern border of the Shire, where Big People abounded.

"That is not all," Saradoc continued. "The smial they chose to settle in is that old hole at the border of the village that no one's wanted for years."

Merry nodded to himself; he knew which hole his father was talking about. It was a tumbledown place full of weeds and wild flowers, and some kids even said it was haunted.

"You'd think these Bree Landers could afford something better than that dump down in Bucklebury," one of his father's companions said.

"I do not know why you would assume hobbits from the outside should all possess riches. In all my years here as the Master of Buckland, I've only seen two hobbits coming from Bree, and they both came down for business. Never to settle down, of course. In both cases, I never got an estimate of their real wealth."

The other hobbit made a reproving sound with his tongue. "Tsk! People from the outside cannot be trusted! Who knows what troubles they may bring with them?"

Saradoc waved an impatient hand. "We Brandybucks are open-minded folk. I shall go down to welcome them personally on the 'morrow."

Upon hearing that last decree, Merry's heart beat with real excitement for the first time since he woke that morning. Leaving his hiding place at the end of the Hall, Merry went out into the evening air. He had to find out what this mysterious new family was all about! Not later, but right that instant. As luck would have it, his mother caught him sneaking out the door and ordered him back inside to wash up and get ready for dinner. Merry didn't hide his disappointment, making quite a show of dragging his feet, but he complied with his mother's request with all the childish reluctance he could muster.

After a good night's sleep, Merry almost forgot about his newfound purpose and might have gotten lost in that morning's adventure – following a line of ants crawling in between two twigs of grass - if not for Frodo coming to bear the same news that Merry had overheard in Brandy Hall the night before.

Frodo was Merry's closest friend in Buckland. He was older by one year and often taunted Merry with it, saying Merry should listen to him since he was older, but Merry rarely did. No, Merry didn't have the habit of listening to anyone.

Now, upon hearing Frodo's story of the newcomers settling down, the conversation he overhead from his Dad the night before came back to him all at once.

"Right!" Merry said, getting enthusiastically to his feet, the ants now but a distant memory. "They moved in last night! Shall we go pay them a visit?"

Frodo paused. "I don't know if that's such a good idea. They're not from here."

"Oh come on, Frodo! That's what makes it all the more exciting!"

After a bit more persuasion, and the promise that Frodo would get access to his secret stash of snacks any time he wanted, the two hobbits made their way to Bucklebury village. By that time of the morning, the residents of Bucklebury were starting to come out of their smials to enjoy breakfast outside, tend to their gardens, or look after the animals. The smell of grilling bacon hit them square in the nose … and in the gut. Though he just had breakfast, Merry found his stomach grumbling again.

They walked past animated streets filled with lively voices and the grunt of pigs, and came to a quieter area of the village at the edge of the big fields. Behind a battered fence in much need of proper care stood the run-down smial everyone had been talking about. Weeds and wild flowers invaded what once used to be a front yard. Moss and lichen had set their roots into the walls, as though the hill from which the hole was dug was in the process of reabsorbing it back. The only visible window had no pane of glass.

Frodo stopped walking, cautioning to his younger and over-eager friend with a raised hand. Merry only wrinkled his little nose, scanning the dark window and the closed door.

"D'you think there's anyone there? I don't see anyone!"

Indeed, the place appeared deserted, but for a cart near the door and an old, road-weary pony attached to one of the wooden posts of the dilapidated fence.

They were not the only ones roaming about the place. Other curious hobbits had also assembled to try and catch a glimpse of their mysterious new neighbors.

"Father says they come from Bree," Merry said in a low voice. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to keep his voice down, but it seemed to fit the atmosphere.

Frodo shrugged. "That's what I've heard, also."

"I've explored that smial before, when it was still deserted," Merry confessed. "It's both small and dirty! I wonder how many hobbits you can fit—?"

"You kids should not be here!" An older hobbit, with a head of white hair and feet to match, came toward them with a scowl. "Shoo, shoo! Go play somewhere else!"

Frodo nodded obediently, but Merry pouted, his bottom lip sticking out in anger, and crossed his arms over his chest as if daring the white-haired hobbit to make him leave. Not wanting to get into trouble, Frodo seized Merry's arm and dragged him away in spite of his protesting cries. When they were almost at the marketplace, Frodo finally let him go.

"Come on, Merry. You know grownups will never leave us alone once we've been spotted."

"Buggers," Merry muttered. "We didn't get to see a thing!"

"It's all right. We'll run into them sooner or later," Frodo said and tried to placate his friend with a smile.

Merry was about to say something else, probably another protest, when suddenly he leapt from the road to hide behind a row of hedge. He motioned eagerly for Frodo to follow him, and the older hobbit looked at him in puzzlement for a second before complying. As they crouched behind the hedge, out of view from the road, Frodo was about to ask for explanations for his friend's strange behavior when he heard what Merry must have heard seconds ago.

The sound of footsteps coming their way.

Soon enough, Merry's father, followed by a few other hobbits, passed them by and headed in direction of the new neighbors' house.

Just as quickly as he hid, Merry sprung from behind the hedges. "Come on, Frodo!" he beckoned to his friend and started trailing his father.

"Merry, wait up!" Frodo sprinted after him, recalling his mother telling him how impolite it would be to linger around the newcomers before they could even settle in properly. the night before when a friend of his parents had come over to tell them the news.

"Let them have time to settle down quietly, sweetie," she had said as she prepared dinner. "And then you, your father and I will bring over some apple pie. That'll be a proper greeting. How does that sound?"

At the time, Frodo had thought it to be a right grand idea! He had nodded at his mother with a bright smile. But now he ran after Merry anyway as curiosity got the better of him.

_Just a little peak,_ he thought.

In the meantime, Saradoc and his own company of curious hobbits arrived in front of the smial. Saradoc looked around at the tumbledown state of the place and shook his head, hoping the new family had plans to put the place back in shape soon. The door, round in the usual custom of hobbit holes, was weather beaten and the red paint peeling and cracking in places. He raised his fist and gave three energetic knocks.

When only silence greeted them, the hobbits behind Saradoc grew restless, shuffling their feet and murmured amongst themselves. Saradoc cleared his throat and knocked again. That seemed to do the trick! They heard a ruckus coming from inside, a series of strange jingling sounds. The hobbits behind him perked up again.

The door was opening. Every hobbit in Buckland, or so it seemed, watched its cautious progression with curiosity, and out came a slim looking hobbit with deep black eyes. Though at first look he seemed to be in his mid-forties, he could easily have been ten years younger or older, for his features were common and smooth and did not reveal much. Marroc supposed he had the kind of face one glimpsed in the crowd and then easily forgot. A white shirt and black trousers hung to his scrawny frame. The clothes were well-worn but not dirty. In fact, not a speck of dirt stained the white fabric.

His eyes raked over Saradoc from head to toe.

"Yes?"

Saradoc didn't let the appearance of the new hobbit deter him (after all, it was unusual to see a hobbit this thin). Instead, he stuck out a hand in greeting and offered a merry smile. "Hello! My name is Saradoc Brandybuck, Master of Buckland. I simply wanted to personally welcome you to this part of the Shire, and perhaps see if you need any help with settling down."

The other looked down at the hand as though Saradoc had some ulterior motive other than the obvious. After a moment's consideration, he took Saradoc's hand and gave it a brief shake.

"Yes, thank you. Marroc Brandybuck is what they call me."

The mention of the family name stirred up the hobbits in earshot and they began again whispering amongst themselves. Saradoc was equally surprised.

"Brandybuck? Then we must be family! How can this be? We thought you came from the outside!"

Marroc's gaze circled across the crowd gathered outside his door before settling on Saradoc once more. He shrugged his thin shoulders. "My ancestors must have been from around here then. As far as I know, my parents and grandparents have all lived in Bree. It is nice to meet some of my distant relatives." His tone, however, didn't convey the enthusiasm his words implied.

Saradoc didn't let that diminish his joy. He clapped a hand on the other hobbit's shoulder and said, "I am so happy to have come down here to greet you in person. Most happy indeed! I hope we will get to know each other better, as I find this unexpected turn of events most enchanting."

Marroc didn't appear as enchanted as his newfound relative, but he nodded just as a young face poked out the door from behind him. The boy eyed the people gathered outside with wide eyes.

Saradoc indicated the boy with an open hand of friendship. "Ah, and who is this?"

"Robin!" Marroc said in surprise. "What are you doing? Go back inside!"

"Come on, come on! Why don't you introduce us?" Saradoc flashed a warm smile in the lad's direction.

Robin kept his place behind Marroc, looking uncertainly between his father and the stranger at their door. Then, Marroc took him reluctantly by the arm and brought him to the door where nearly every stranger in town got a good look at him. Robin was somewhat scared of all those eyes on him, but he stayed still.

"This is my son, Robin," Marroc said.

Saradoc beamed down happily at the boy. "Nice to meet you, Robin! I have a son myself. He is probably a little younger than you, but you lads should get along."

Robin gave Saradoc a hesitant smile, which quickly faltered when his father tightened his hold against his shoulder.

"We still have a lot to do," Marroc said, pointing out the still unloaded cart. His harsh tone indicated the visit was over.

"Of course, of course!" Saradoc said. "If you need any help—"

"I do not think we will."

"Yes … well, in that case, I suppose I will let you work."

Marroc guided his son inside and closed the door before Saradoc could finish speaking.

"Not too welcoming," one of the hobbits said into the ensuing silence.

"Nonsense!" Saradoc said, turning to face his companions, his hands tucked in his vest pockets confidently. "He is not yet used to being in a new place, but after a few ales, I bet he will let his guard down. No hobbit can resist a good pint." He laughed, but it was not the usual hearty laughter.

Some meters away, watching the show with interest, Merry turned to Frodo. "Did you see that lad? I've been so bored these days, but now I will get to show him around Buckland!"

Frodo nodded and smiled, as excited as Merry. For a fact, the boy seemed to be closer to his age than Merry's age. But… "His dad sure is scary!"

"His dad?" Merry said with a frown. "Who cares about his dad? Frodo, we have to find a way to talk to _Robin!_"

Frodo laughed at Merry's enthusiasm and gave him a light, playful shove. "He might not want to be friends with you. _You_ are a troublemaker. I think he'll be better off with me!"

"You won't go around telling him that, will you?"

"What if I do?"

"Then I'll tell your parents of the time you stole my cousin Berilac's lunch, and he blamed it on me, and then we fought, and then we both got punished!"

"What? Merry, do you still remember that? You were only six!"

Merry crossed his little arms. "I never forget your wrongdoings, especially when I'm the victim! This is how it is. So deal?"

Frodo stared at Merry's impish smile for a second before he relented. "All right, I will remember to depict you in a positive light."

After that first day, however, they could not find a way to approach Robin. They watched him every day helping his father clean up the smial, pulling up weeds and repairing the fence. The day Marroc bought a new windowpane to install on the smial's only window, Frodo and Merry tried several times to beckon Robin over to their cover in the grassy field beside the house. He either didn't notice them or pretended he didn't. Frodo and Merry meant to intercept him on the road to the market, but his father never let him go very far from the house.

Merry gave up after a few weeks. His attention deviated to something more fun than keeping watch on another hobbit under a beating sun. Frodo, on the other hand, started to find the whole situation rather weird. Talking about it with his parents one night, Primula said she would attempt to find more information about the newcomers. She asked around the neighborhood, the fields and the market, but people didn't really have a lot to say about Marroc or his son. Some labeled him suspicious, so unlike normal hobbit folk he was, an inconspicuous man who only left his smial twice a week to buy food and smoking leaf. Sometimes others saw him at one of the inns ordering ale, but he always drank it alone.

"If you try to approach him," they said, "he'll send you on your way with an ugly glare." It was disappointing for Frodo, but there was not much he could do about it.

A few more weeks cleaning and sprucing, and the new inhabitants' smial finally began to look as if it housed people instead of weeds and wild animals. But now that all the work was complete, Robin rarely came out of the house.

Towards the end of July, Frodo too began to lose interest in the matter. Besides, Merry had told him, cheeks red with anticipation, that his cousin and favorite buddy Pippin would be coming to Brandy Hall for a summer stay. When Merry and Pippin were together, Frodo knew troubles wouldn't lie too far ahead, although they weren't always of the bad variety.

That day, as it was especially hot, Frodo and Merry sat on the edge of the Brandywine River with their feet sloshing in the water. Grownups always told them to stay away from the river. Out of caution, of course, but the boys liked it there. When the air was hot, it was a little bit of heaven to splash each other with the cool water of the Brandywine.

As the summer day stretched to an end, they separated at the foot of Buck Hill. Frodo felt the urge to spy on Robin again, but he didn't say so to Merry. His friend had moved on to bigger and better pursuits, like catching bullfrogs and following ants. Frodo had followed along, doing much of the same, and hadn't spied on the new Brandybucks in a few weeks. Today, however, he had a feeling he might luck out.

Saying goodbye to Merry, Frodo pretended to make the turn toward home. As soon as Merry disappeared in the distance, he doubled back in the other direction and began walking to the smial at the edge of the village at a brisk pace. He had found a good spot on top of a small hill that offered a diving view of what was going on outside the smial. The tree on top of the hill provided good shade on hot summer afternoons such as this.

Frodo settled in his usual spot, lying down on his belly under the tree and watching the lack of activity around the house. He had never known such sedentary hobbits. Were the folk in Bree all like them? How could Robin, young and very much a hobbit no matter where he came from, stay clustered inside all day? Were Frodo in Robin's place, he would surely suffocate.

With nothing interesting going on in the Brandybuck home and the warm breeze wafting over him, Frodo's eyes began to close and he fell asleep while keeping watch. When he awoke, the sun had already started to set and the skies were beginning to darken. Frodo rubbed the sleep from his eyes and decided he better get home before mother sent out a search party.

As he threw a last glance at the house down the hill, something, a movement, stopped in his tracks. There was a person crouched down a few yards from the front door of the smial. They seemed to be rooting around for something on the ground. Intrigued, Frodo crawled down from his surveillance spot up the hill and dived inside the field of tall grass, making his way near the house. It was getting darker by the minute and Frodo hastened his pace. He drew as close as he dared, parting the grass just enough to peer through.

At first sight, he thought it was Robin until his eyes settled upon long, light-colored hair. Startled, Frodo realized it was a girl!

There was just enough light left at this proximity to see her crouched down, playing in the mud. The reason he first confused her with Robin was because she wore not a colorful dress, as did most hobbit girls he knew, but a pants. Pants and vests were for boys!

Frodo was wondering whom she was when the front door opened, and the one he'd been watching for all evening stepped out.

"Allie, that's enough," Robin said, his face a mask of shadow in the dusk. "Come back in now."

The girl threw down the ball of mud in her hand. "Just a few more minutes, all right?"

"No, that is enough for today. Come in now!"

For a moment, she hung her head and said nothing. But then she stood up. "Just give me a minute."

And then she ran toward the field, towards the very spot Frodo was hiding.

Gasping, Frodo let the grass draw closed like a curtain and backed away. He heard her clothes brushing against the grass not far from his hiding place. The sound of grass being pulled from the ground was very near. It caused a small breach he could see through in the fading light. The girl was wiping the mud off her hands with the grass she'd pulled off.

After she was done, she threw the handful of grass back into the field and then seemed to look straight at Frodo. He froze, staring back at her. Her eyes gleamed a little in the gathering dark. Wild curls framed her face. Frodo couldn't tell whether she was only looking in his direction, or really _seeing_ him.

"Allie!" Robin called again.

"Coming..." the girl answered after a moment. Then she turned away and ran back to the house.

Frodo stayed in his crouched position long after the door closed behind Robin and this new addition to the Brandybuck family. Afraid to move, he wondered what just unfolded before his eyes, and what it all meant.


	3. Phantom Girl

**Phantom Girl**

Watching other people was Allie Brandybuck's only pastime. When they first moved to their new habitation (she still refused to think of it as home), her father fobid her from going outside and from being seen by others, lest she wanted a beating.

"Don't make trouble for us here, girl! We had to leave Bree because of you!"

Allie still wasn't sure what she had done wrong that night in Bree that she couldn't remember, but surely it must have been something awful. Otherwise, why would father get so angry every time he spoke about it?

The place where they lived now had looked and smelled disgusting at first. It made her skeptical about living in an actual hole in the ground. Back in Bree, all houses were made of stone, brick and wood. She soon noticed that the other folk in the Shire also lived in holes, only theirs were in better shape.

But the most marked difference had to be the people. She had never before seen so many hobbits at the same time, in the same place. In Bree, hobbits were only the small minority; the town was the realm of the Big People. She didn't particularly like them, but seeing no sight of them here felt as though something were missing. She had heard rumors about the Shire before, that it was a place protected and populated by hobbits just like her who didn't have dealings with the outside world and who didn't wish to know anything about what happened beyond their own doorsteps. Growing up in Bree, she had questioned the reality of such a place and of such people, until today when she had been thrust in their midst.

And so she watched the behavior of these hobbits from the only round window of their house. The window presented a pretty good view of the neighborhood, which according to Robin, wasn't too far from the heart of the village. A road passed outside her window, leading into town. Their house was isolated from the others by a patch of grass a few meters long, whereas the other houses were practically stuck one to the other on the side of a hill. Opposite them, on the other side of the road, was a small pen for keeping goats and some chicken.

Allie watched as her immediate neighbors went on their daily activities. They worked in the garden and picked up chicken eggs and milked goats during the day, and then spent their evenings in more leisure and artistic activities such as sculpting, painting or drinking. Watching them go about their daily activities, constantly carrying on in laughter or conversation or song, often made her feel lonely and disconnected from the world.

Nothing too exciting ever happened, except sometimes when kids ran past her house to disappear into the grass field that lay at the border of it. In the first days, she especially noticed two boys always hanging around her place. She knew they were trying not to be too obvious about watching their house, but they failed miserably as she had noticed them right away. She watched them as they watched Robin working outside on the broken fence. They came again the day after, and again the day after that.

She told her brother about it, but the only response that she got from Robin was: "I know. I think they want to talk to me. I've seen them waving. But don't you ever approach them, Allie, you understand?"

"Why?"

Robin threw a fleeting glance at their father, fast asleep on the only couch, and whispered, "Don't be stupid. Dad would kill you."

And so Allie stayed behind her window and continued to watch. Eventually, the two boys stopped coming.

The only time she couldn't keep her faithful watch at the window was when her father pulled her away from it to do chores in the house. She wiped the dust off the few belongings they had brought with them, scrubbed the floor clean, cooked the meals and washed the dishes. If she were too slow or didn't do things exactly the way father liked it, he would yell at her or beat her, even more so if Robin rushed to help her. Therefore, she had learned the hard way how to do things quickly and efficiently. Things were like this in Bree, and nothing had changed after moving here.

Allie bore no ill will towards their father because for as long as she could remember, life had always been this way. Sometimes Robin would shed angry tears for the way father treated her and Allie would be the one to tell him that it was all right, that it was her fault for making him mad all the time because of her carelessness.

What she hated the most about this situation was not the beating or the chores; it was the confinement. At least in Bree, she could go outside whenever she was done with her chores. But here, she could only watch the outside world from her window, being forbidden to be a participant in it. Sometimes, when her father was not in his worst mood, he would let her go outside for twenty minutes or so once the sun had set, telling her not to go beyond the fence, and especially not to be seen.

In those rare and precious instances, she valued the freedom of the open sky and felt she could breathe again.

All went well until that evening, when she was sure someone had seen her. In that grass field, she had seen a shadow standing there and watching her. She couldn't be sure in the dark, but her guts told her there was no mistake.

That night, lying on a blanket on the floor, huddled close to Robin and listening to father's snores resounding from the couch, Allie thought back to the figure huddled in the grass again and again. Wringing the blanket between her hands, she debated whether she should tell. If that person reported seeing her, she knew that soon all the townsfolk would know. What would happen to her then?

The next day, she waited by the window with a pounding heart and baited breath, looking for signs of people coming over to their house, but the other hobbits went on with their activities like they always did. It was the same the day after, and the day after.

It was around that time that father finally managed to find a job at a nearby inn. Money was running short for some time now and they had been forced to sell their old pony a long time ago. The night before his first shift, he called Robin and Allie in front of him.

"There's no way I'm going to be the only one working for this household", he started as way of introduction, his black eyes traveling from Robin to Allie, before settling on Robin. "You better go find a way to make some money too, boy. I heard help is needed at the market. His name is Boffin. I don't know his first time, but he's the oldest of 'em, you won't miss him. He can barely walk and he's looking for someone to help him out."

Robin nodded wordlessly, but Marroc's gaze had already moved on to Allie.

Hopefully, she waited for her turn with a pounding heart, excited at the prospect of working. Anything but to stay locked up any longer!

"And you," Marroc's eyes hardened, "you better stay here quietly. If I ever, and I mean _ever_, hear any report of people seeing you, you'll wish you were dead!"

Allie was grief-stricken and afraid. But most of all, she was disappointed. "But… I can work, too. I can do anything, and I'll do it well!"

Marroc slowly went down on one knee to look his daughter in the eye. Allie looked down nervously and Robin stepped back a little, frightened by the savage expression on their father's face. Marroc suddenly seized his daughter's chin in a tight grip to force her to raise her gaze. He smiled as his grip on her face tightened, forcing her mouth to protrude slightly.

"Look at me, girl," he whispered, "I know what you're thinking, but that won't do. You know why, don't you?"

Allie kept staring at him, trembling slightly.

"Do you know why?" he yelled the question this time.

Allie hurried up a nod.

"Good. Very good. So pretend that you are invisible, stay here and take care of the house. Am I making myself clear?"

Again, she nodded. Only then did Marroc let go of her face. She moved back a few steps, and Robin grabbed her hand in a comforting gesture. Marroc, however, had already lost interest in them. He put some leaves on his pipe and went outside to smoke.

When the door closed behind him, Allie let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Allie, are you all right?" Robin asked, anguished.

The young girl smiled at her brother because she didn't want him to worry, but her heart was pounding with fright and disappointment.

After that, it didn't take Allie long to learn the new routine. No more listening to father snore away on the couch at midday. He was off to work around that time, and came back only after she had gone to bed, when the moon was high in the sky. Robin's job at the market had him up at sunrise, not coming home until suppertime. With the men of the house working, Allie had the house all to herself for nearly six hours.

When not even her father's threats were enough to keep her inside anymore, she finally sneaked out. She knew she just needed to remain hidden. If nobody saw her, everything would be fine.

Every afternoon, she ran into the grass field, enjoying the caress of the wind, the touch of grass on her skin and the warmth of the sun in her hair. She went on top of a hill, the same spot that Frodo had used to spy on them, and looked down at her own house. She noticed that it still seemed so ugly and unwelcoming compared to the others.

She quickly moved along, watching the hobbits as they walked along the roads and exchanged greetings. The place was a lot bigger and more crowded than she had imagined. It was always buzzing with such activity that only watching made her slightly dizzy. She couldn't get too close to the heart of the village because there was not enough vegetation there to hide her, so she kept to the fields and to the animal farms. Eventually, she noticed the tall hill standing outside their village, which housed more hobbits. From their clothes and their tools, they seemed to be richer than the ones from the village.

The days went by, no one ever saw her or caught her. She went from watching people from across the window to watching them from the cover of trees and hay. She watched them as they gardened, built furniture, sold their merchandise, made things out of iron, fed the animals, brushed the ponies, cooked and sang. One day, she even ventured as far as the River and watched hobbits fishing with their feet in the water.

Soon, she noticed a group of hobbit kids playing tag in the woods. Among them, she recognized the two boys who had been spying on her brother. One had light brown hair. The other one, who looked slightly older, had hair of a dark brown that seemed almost black. She followed their group as they went to buy ice cream after the game. The ice creams were of all colors, and she found her mouth becoming dry and thirsty as she watched them licking their cones. But not even once did she let her guard down to let them know she was there.

And so the days passed. The summer sun was hot in this beginning of August, but she welcomed its warmth. Beyond the grass field near her house, she discovered a small stand of trees, and beyond it were fields of corn, potatoes and other vegetables. Running in the middle of the fields was a stone road leading North.

The woods beyond the grass field were usually deserted, and when Allie grew tired of watching people, she opted for the tranquil setting of the woods. One day, as she was exploring it, she saw a cat playing with a twig of grass at the foot of a tree. Upon seeing her, the cat came trotting to her and rubbed its head against her calf. She smiled and bent down to caress its fur. The cat meowed softly and then lied down on the grass, exposing its belly for her to scratch.

"Are you lost?" she murmured as her fingers ran through the soft fur of its belly.

A purring sound was all she obtained as answer.

Allie took out a piece of dried meat from the pocket of her vest.

"Are you hungry?" she asked the cat.

The felines' ears perked up and it sniffed the meat carefully before taking it between its teeth. Allie had been saving it for herself, as that would probably be her only meal of the day, but she was happy nonetheless when the cat started devouring it voraciously.

When it was done with the food, it stood up and sniffed Allie's hand for more.

"Sorry cat. That's all I have."

The cat licked her outstretched fingers one last time and started trotting away with its tail high in the air.

"Cat!" she called, not wanting it to leave just yet.

The cat turned, looked at her a moment, meowed again and resumed walking. Allie grinned and followed it. It was then she realized that perhaps she couldn't approach other people, but that didn't mean she couldn't have any friends.

She soon began noticing the wild life around her; she had never seen so many different animals before. In Bree, there were only cats and dogs and horses. But here, deep in the middle of hobbit countryside, she saw squirrels scurrying about with their mates, playing and looking for food and butterflies and bees fluttering from flower to flower. A large variety of insects buzzed past her ears, making great fodder for the various birds flying through the green canopy.

The trees were a treat as well. They were of all shapes and sizes, big and tall, some skinny and some so fat she couldn't put her arms around them. She found particular pleasure in climbing the ones she could, challenging herself to make it to the highest branches of almost every tree. Perched on top of the highest branch of the tallest tree, she was rewarded with a plunging view of the grassy field, all the roads winding about Buckland like snakes, and the fervent activity of hobbits in the surrounding fields. Their colors mixed together like a live painting that made her hold her breath for a second or two. Thus, Allie spent many an afternoon in the woods wiling away time until Robin came home in the evening. It was here that she found her small piece of happiness.

But something happened one day to change all that.

One afternoon, she was enjoying a handful of wild berries when suddenly she saw movement from the corner of her eye. A second later, a white hare bounced into view. She had never seen a hare before and the surprise caused her to drop the berries. The hare froze for a second and then it bolted away like lightning. Jumping on her feet, Allie chased after it across the woods until it disappeared in a hole in the ground. She knelt down outside the hole and peered inside, but it seemed to go deep beneath the earth.

"Oh, so you live in one of those as well? Are you related to hobbits?"

She did not expect to hear laughter. The sound startled her so much her blood froze. She turned long before the laughter could die down. To her horror, she now looked upon the hobbit she had seen spying on Robin with his friend. The one with dark hair. The hobbit in question was still laughing when their eyes connected for an infinitesimal second.

Before any coherent thought could form in her head, her legs automatically took her off as fast as they could.

"Wait!" she heard behind her, following by the sound of footsteps giving her chase.

Panicked, Allie ran faster, veered left and used momentum to throw herself at the low branch of a tree. She climbed until she reached a point high amid the dense leaves. A second later, the dark-haired hobbit ran past the tree and continued straight until he was out of view.

_This is bad!_ was what kept running through her head. Her whole body was as tense as the branch she cowered upon. Perched there, she waited and waited for what seemed like hours, her hands painfully tight around the branch, her beating heart the only distinctive sound she could hear.

However, the other hobbit did not come back. After waiting some more, just to be absolutely sure the danger had passed, she slowly climbed down from her hiding place, and with a thousand precautions, made her way back home.

* * *

"So you're saying that there is a girl living with Robin and his Dad?" Merry asked for the third time.

Frodo sighed. "Yes! Haven't you heard a word of what I just said?"

"I heard, but I don't believe you," Merry let out casually.

Frodo grabbed his friend by the shoulders. "Why would I lie about something like that?"

Merry rolled his eyes and kept walking at a brisk pace down one of the tunnels of Brandy Hall. Pippin was going to be here any second, and he really didn't have time for this.

"So, you are saying that the first time you saw her, it was like really really dark, and you were not even sure whether she was a boy or a girl. And then, the second time you saw her, you said you followed her into the small woods, and when she noticed you, she ran away and seemed to disappear in mid-air? Does that make sense to you?"

Frodo looked ready to explode during Merry's entire tirade. "Yes, yes it does! Because it's the truth!"

Merry finally stopped and looked Frodo in the eye. "Frodo, you always make up stories. Last time when I believed what you said about that plant giving me better eyesight, I ended up being sick for three days!" Merry winced at the mere memory of it. "So it will not work on me again!"

Frodo crossed his arms as Merry resuming his walk. "Fine! I will prove it to you! Just wait and see!"

More determined than ever, he quickly ran down the slope of Buck Hill and headed towards Bucklebury village. He was going to follow her again, and this time, he swore that he wouldn't lose her.

In the meantime, Merry forgot all about Frodo the moment he saw a cart pulled by two ponies stop in front of the main entrance of Brandy Hall, and recognized it as belonging to the Thain. The smile that appeared on his face threatened to reach his ears. He broke into a run, nearly clashing with several maids doing the daily cleaning. He stopped to a halt beside his parents as they waited to greet their guests on the last steps of the Hall.

Paladin Took first stepped off the cart, followed closely by young Pippin and his older sister Pearl.

"Come inside!" Saradoc said, waving them toward the Hall.

"You must be hungry from the long trip," Merry's mother, Esmeralda, added. "I prepared a good lunch for all of us!"

"Let's go play!" Merry said, not wasting any time. Pippin nodded with mischievousness playing in his eyes.

"Be careful, lads!" Pearl reminded them with a smile. "Don't run so fast you fall over again, Pip. Alright?"

"Don't worry. I'll take good care of Pippin!" Merry declared seriously.

"I don't need no takin' care of!" Pippin protested. "Let's go already, Merry!"

The adults watched in amusement as the two young hobbits ran off into the fields. Merry laughed at Pippin's short legs, which nearly had him toppling over trying to keep up with Merry's longer strides

"Let's go annoy Berilac. I haven't done so in a long time because I ran out of ideas," Merry proposed.

Pippin's eyes shone brightly at that. "So now you have new ideas?"

"Not yet, but being with you has always inspired me, Pippin!"

The two hobbits arrived at the farm beside Brandy Hall. It was the biggest farm around. There they saw Berilac, Merry's older first cousin, seated on the wooden fence enclosing a pasture roaming with sheep. With one raised and pointed finger, he seemed to be counting sheep with a concentrated frown. In the other hand, he held a blunt blade that he used to make counting notches in the wood.

"My Uncle must have put him up to that boring task again," Merry chuckled, very satisfied that he always managed to get out.

"He seems to hate it," Pippin observed with a grin.

"Who wouldn't? It's like torture. Especially when you have to start over," Merry said with wide-eyed excitement, rubbing his hands together in mischief.

Pippin dropped to all fours and crawled along the underbrush growing at the border of the fence. Merry soon followed, and the boys made a large detour to get opposite where Berilac sat on the fence. They rustled through the underbrush hastily. It would serve their mischief no purse if they got there _after_ he finished counting.

"This is a good spot," Pippin finally said, coming to stop.

"How can we scare the sheep?"

One sheep was silently chewing on grass near the fence and eyeing them nonchalantly. Merry tried poking it with a stick, but it only moved on placidly and continued grazing. After a few more times with the same result, he gave up. So Pippin tried throwing pebbles at it, which only elicited an indignant BEEEHH.

Merry sighed. "Do they not know when to be afraid?"

"I think they know _exactly_ when to be afraid, and that's the problem."

"I think we just need to keep disturbing them. Here, give me those pebbles."

Pippin loaded a handful of pebbles in Merry's open palm, who then proceeded to throw one after the other at the animal's head. After the fifth stone, the sheep's eyes went wide and it let out a mad bleat. Seeing that it was beginning to work, Pippin joined in the effort.

"Hey, what are you doing?" came the anguished voice of Berilac.

"Oh no!"

"Spotted!"

Pippin and Merry doubled their efforts. Pebbles bounced off the poor hapless sheep until it could take no more. It let out a wild bleat and charged away. The sheep closest to it picked up on its restlessness, bleating and looking around in alarm. Soon, the whole herd starting running within the fold.

From the other side of the pasture came a cry of desperation that made Merry and Pippin double over with laughter.

"Meriadoc! Just wait till I get my hands on you! Meriadoc!"

The heard a pounding of hobbit feet over the thunderous sound of sheep's hooves and Pippin pulled Merry by the sleeve. "Quick, let's run!"

The two hobbits ran down Buck Hill without stopping, halting only to catch their breath when they were within sight of the Brandywine River. They fell on their backs and let hilarity seize them once more as they stared up at the cloudy sky.

"Did you see his face?" Pippin chimed between two bouts of laughter.

"It was worth seeing and remembering," Merry choked out.

"Merry, you are so dead after this. He will never leave you alone now."

"Oh, I know. I'm so scared!"

They laughed some more, and then went to quench their thirst in the river.

"I've missed you, Pip," Merry said while wiping water from his chin. "These days it's been no fun."

"I missed you too Merry!" Pippin answered with a wide grin. "But why has it been no fun? Is Frodo not playing with you anymore?"

Merry sighed loudly. "Frodo! Don't even get me started with _him_."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"He is making up trouble all by himself! He's really busy these days chasing after some phantom girl," Merry rolled his eyes so much Pippin thought they'd fall out.

But he was stunned. "Do you mean a ghost?"

Merry lied down on his back with his feet in the water, and Pippin hurried to imitate him. "Well," Merry said, "you know how Frodo likes to make up stories? Well this time it's about the new folk in town."

"New folk? Who?"

Merry informed Pippin of everything he knew about the new family. By the end, Pippin had raised himself on one elbow. "They seem really mysterious!"

"I don't know. I think they're boring. Robin is working at the market, helping out the old Boffin. I tried talking to him, but he ignored me!" Merry sat up straight in consternation. "And no one ignores a Brandybuck!"

Pippin's big eyes seemed thoughtful. "But Merry, what if Frodo was telling the truth? What if she really exists?"

Merry rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, you will not start too, will you? Phantoms are not real."

"I'd like to see for myself, if you please!"

Merry palmed his face with one hand. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you anything." He weighed his options. "But all right, might as well."

As the two hobbits made their way to Bucklebury village, skipping and bickering amiably, the air grew heavy and humid, and rain clouds gathered in the East, They bought themselves some ice cream on the way and hurried to lick them off, for they were melting rapidly under the hot ambient temperature. Thunder rumbled above their heads as they walked past the forge of Bucklebury village. It hadn't rained in a few weeks, but now it looked like a real whooper of a storm was brooding.

"This is their house," Merry said, coming to a stop in front of the smial.

Pippin eyed the small and disheveled looking hole in front of him and didn't know what to think of its pitiful appearance. Even the Thain's servants had better living quarters back home.

They kept watch for a few minutes until the first fat raindrop crashed on Merry's nose. The two hobbits lifted their faces up towards the dark and menacing clouds rolling above their heads with white lightning flashing by intervals in their midst.

"I think we should do this another day. I don't want to get soaked," Merry groaned.

Lightning pealed across the sky and Pippin admitted that it was a good idea. Besides, now that he'd seen the place, he was a little scared by the dark window of the smial directly facing him and by the cracked and dried pieces of paint hanging from the round door. He remembered what Merry had said about the mysterious girl, and couldn't help looking around apprehensively. The wind was stronger than it was before. As it blew past the trees, the leaves and branches brushed and bumped together, raising a real cacophony of rustling leaves and cracking wood that surrounded them like an invisible ring of monsters lurking in the dark. The grass field at the right of the house was flattened against the ground in one direction at first and then in another as it submitted to the force of the wind.

Suddenly, a movement that did not flow with the rest of the grass caught Pippin's attention. His hand clenched instinctively on his friend's shirt as he drew in a sharp breath.

"Merry… Merry… I think I saw something."

Merry tried to shield his face from the raindrops that were dropping faster and faster. "What? Where?"

Pippin silently pointed to the grass field, not turning to look at Merry. Merry narrowed his eyes and looked in the same direction as Pippin, but all he saw was the grass moving. It wasn't evening yet, but it was getting progressively darker as the clouds thickened. The rain made a dull sound all around them as it hit the muddy ground.

"I don't see anything," Merry said in an undertone.

"There! I saw it again! It's coming towards us," Pippin whined, clenching Merry's shirt even harder.

"Stop it Pippin! I know you're just trying to scare me!"

But at that moment, he saw it too. A figure was parting the grass and trying to reach the edge of the field. The blood drained from Merry's face.

"Is that her?" Pippin's voice was merely a whisper.

Merry didn't know, and didn't want to know. Bloody Frodo for putting those frightening ideas in his head! Right now, he just wanted to get away from this dark smial and that ominous figure in the grass. He didn't believe in ghosts… in theory, but he didn't want to have anything to do with their discovery if indeed they were real.

"I think we should go," he whispered, tugging at Pippin's hand insistently as the rain blurred his vision. Pippin's eyes were wide as he stepped back as well.

Then, without warning, a crack of lightning split the sky, casting a white glow on the ground, the smial and the grass field. For a split second, Merry thought he saw a white face behind the darkness of the window.

He gave an ear-splitting scream that was drowned by the loud crack of thunder that followed. Pippin, startled, let out a high-pitched scream that pierced the night. The two hobbits turned heels at the same time and ran breathlessly through the storm, barely noticing whether the other was following. Several times, their feet slipped on the wet grass, but neither boy slowed down till they reached the Bridge Inn at the edge of Bucklebury village.

The lamplight inside the Inn cast a warm glow outside the walls, and a loud hubbub of adult voices reached their ears. They stopped at the entrance and dropped their hands on their knees, wheezing to recover their breath.

One of the adults saw them hovering in the entrance. "Do not just stay there, kids! Look how sodden you both are." Upon recognizing Merry and Pippin, he shook his head in amusement and said, "I should have known".

He herded Merry and Pippin inside, but soon forgot them as his friend called him over to drink another beer. The two young hobbits went to the corner of the inn and sat down facing each other conspiratorially, their hair still dripping wet.

"You think that was her we saw?" Pippin asked.

Merry shook his head because he didn't know what he'd seen, but his lips stretched into a wry smile. It had been a long time since anything had affected him so. "We will go back there tomorrow. I swear that I, Meriadoc Brandybuck, will see this mysterious case to the end!"

Pippin returned the smile in kind, although his young heart still hammered with fright at the latest events.

* * *

Allie stared at the rain falling down hard outside the window as she sat hugging her legs at her usual spot. The raindrops were hitting against the glass, continuous and dull. Outside, the world looked gray and menacing, a place she dare not venture into, not after the boy with the dark hair caught her out in the woods the day before. How could she be so careless? She had let her guard down, and any minute now, someone's careless chatter could revoke her freedom.

Sighing, she turned to squint at the darkness inside the smial. They still didn't have lamps, and with the storm raging outside, the inside was so dark it was as if it were nighttime. She worried about not being able to finish the day's chores if the rain persisted. She worried about the cat from the woods. Did it have a good shelter from the storm?

Glancing outside once more, she saw two boys standing just outside the fence. Bringing her face closer to the window, she wondered why they weren't running for cover before she realized they were looking at something in the grass field. Then, lightning flashed and she jumped, backing away from the window. Thunder rolled overhead, as loud as though the sky itself was a dome that had just cracked open. When it passed, the two boys were gone. _Probably scared away by the lightning,_ she thought.

A few seconds later, she drew a hand to her mouth as the boy with dark hair appeared at the spot the two hobbits had vacated. The boy stopped in the rain, looking around as though searching for something… or someone.

When he turned his head in her direction, Allie threw herself to the ground and quickly crawled away from the window. Had he seen her? She half expected him to knock at the door any second, but as the minutes and then hours passed, the only sound that disturbed the silence was that of raindrops hitting the roof.

That night, as she got dinner ready, she heard her brother ask: "Why are you so silent these days Allie? Is anything bothering you?"

"No."

Robin leaned against the counter and watched her. "I know you must be unhappy staying here by yourself all day." His tone was regretful. "I wish I could do something about it. About all of it."

Allie stopped chopping the mushrooms. "I know."

Robin patted her head in an endearing gesture. "I'm working really hard right now and when I have enough coins, I will get us out of here."

Allie smiled at her brother. In the flickering light of the candle that Robin had brought back from the market, his features seemed to alternate between soft and hard.

"Is that a promise?"

Robin smiled and held out his little finger. Allie wrapped hers around his. "It's a promise!" her brother said.

Allie went back to chopping the mushrooms, and soon after that dinner was ready. However, it was a meager meal that only consisted of mushroom soup and some bread. These days, all the money that Marroc made went invariably toward buying ale at the Inn at the end of his shift. They were only getting by with the money that Robin was making.

As she was done eating, a drop of muddy water suddenly fell on her cheek. Blinking, she tilted her face towards the ceiling and saw that rainwater was getting inside from a crack in the roof that she couldn't see in the dark.

"Oh no!" She pointed at it, and Robin followed her gaze.

"Oh, buggers!" He cursed under his breath. "I'll have to get that repaired in the morning."

They placed a bucket underneath it in the meantime, and the drops fell into it one by one, producing a regular beat. They both stared down at the bucket with haunted faces in the candlelight.

"Dad will not be pleased," Robin grumbled moodily.

In fact, not being pleased was an understatement, as Allie soon came to see when being kicked awake in the middle of the night.

Marroc's foot came flying again, but this time she managed to shy away from the blow after rolling a couple of times, head still light from being so abruptly pulled from sleep.

"Father? What is wrong?" she cried while holding her side.

"You little…" Marroc was almost seething with rage as he swayed on his feet. It was then that she noticed that he reeked of alcohol. Again.

"What is _wrong_? You dare ask me what is _wrong_?" he yelled, and then kicked away the bucket already half filled with rainwater, spilling it on the floor. "_This_ is what is wrong. How am I supposed to sleep with all this noise?"

He looked at her accusingly, as though she were responsible. Allie's eyes flickered to Robin shortly, hoping for help, but he sat with his back against the wall, his frightened eyes peering above the blanket.

"Do something about it right now, girl!" Marroc yelled.

Allie carefully made her way to the spilled water and tried to sop it up with a dry cloth. Marroc rolled his eyes and gave her a push that sent her rolling with a cry. "I told you to fix the ceiling, not to make a bigger mess on the floor!"

She stayed on the ground, trembling, trying to think of a way to get to the ceiling. But her mind was blank except for the terror at the prospect of a second blow. Irate at her silence, Marroc started towards her huddled shape when Robin suddenly interposed himself in front of him. "Father! Stop! I will fix it in the morning!" he pleaded.

"Get out of the way!" Marroc shouted, his blood-shot eyes now fixed upon his son.

He tried to advance again, but Robin seized him by the waist. "I will fix it tomorrow, I will!" he yelled, on the verge of tears.

Marroc gripped his son's hands and roughly pulled them off him. He seized his head with one hand as his unfocused gaze traveled around the room, looking as though he was about to be sick.

"If it's still there by tomorrow," he managed to slur, "I'll punish you both!"

With that, he fell to the couch and lay still. After a moment of utmost silence that seemed to stretch for hours when in actuality only minutes passed, Allie finally dared move again. She crawled back to her bed and lied down on her side with her back to the couch. A minute later, she heard Robin lie down beside her.

"Does it hurt?" His voice was no more than a whisper.

Allie submerged her head under the covers. "Yeah."

She heard Robin shift a little. "I hate him," he confessed. "Why does he have to put us through this? Ever since Mom died…"

Allie turned a little at those words but he had fallen silent. She had been told that their Mom had died when she was very young, still a baby. She didn't know of the exact circumstances because neither her father nor her brother talked about it. But she knew the reason for which Robin kept silent was because father told him to keep his mouth shut, not because Robin didn't want to tell her. Marroc didn't seem very fond of either of his children, but of her even less than of her brother. It had always been this way.

"… and now he's drinking on top of everything," Robin resumed in a hushed but furious tone. "I want a life for myself too. Right now I can't even play with the other kids as I'm stuck in that stupid market loading fruits. I can't have friends because father forbids me from talking to anybody. He doesn't want the others to know how messed up we are."

Allie now turned around to face his brother, and sensed more than she saw the bitter tears he was crying. She cupped his face in her small hand and Robin blinked the tears away furiously.

"You just wait and see Allie. When I grow up, we will leave this forsaken place and go back to Bree. I have friends there. We are going to start over."

"Can we really go back to Bree?" she asked in a small voice, sounding young and lost. "I thought because of what happened…"

Robin stared at her intensely in the dark. "You had nothing to do with it, Allie!"

She closed her eyes as a red vision flashed through her mind. "Do you really mean it? Are you sure?"

"I do, and I'm sure."

"So... when will we leave?" Her pale gray eyes searched those of her brother in the dark, but couldn't find them.

"One day," came the whisper. "Soon."

She wanted to ask when "one day" was, and when "soon" would be, but she swallowed the words back. This is what her brother always told her.

_One day. One day all of this will change. One day I will make this stop._

But not today.


	4. Let's Play a Game

**Let's Play a Game**

Frodo caught a cold after searching for Merry and Pippin in the rain. He never found them that day although he'd been sure he'd seen them in front of Robin's smial! In any case, the result of all his troubles was his mother fussing over him like he was three years old again for the past two days. Even now, Frodo was doing his best to sit as still as he knew how while his mother measured his temperature for the third time that day.

"Still a light fever, but you should be fine in another day or two," she said while softly caressing his brow.

Frodo groaned and slid back into bed to hide his frustration under the covers. He wasn't feeling all _that_ bad. He was fairly certain he could manage an afternoon outside with his friends. But Primula would have none of that and confined him to bed. Merry and Pippin came to visit the day before, but that only served to worsen his mood. Those two! Didn't they know anything about showing even the slightest remorse or sympathy? Really! It was their fault he was in this state and he told them so.

He'd been spying on Robin's smial from his usual spot on top the hill when he had spotted the two hobbits lingering around. Going down the slope of the hill to meet them, the rain had started falling hard, which made walking in the grassy field rather difficult. He had to stoop to avoid being blown over a few times. When finally he emerged, Merry and Pippin had disappeared who-knows-where, and Frodo spent some time looking for them in the rain thinking they couldn't have gone far. But all he got out of the search was this cold.

Upon hearing this, he watched his two friends go into a fit of hilarity that brought tears to their eyes.

"See Pip," Merry said, popping Pippin good-naturedly on the arm. "I told you it wasn't a ghost!"

"Nope, not a ghost at all, Merry. A Frodo-ghost, maybe!"

Frodo drew his eyes down to a slit while Merry and Pippin laughed so hard they had to hold each other to keep from falling to the floor. He had no idea what they were talking about, but it was pretty obvious the joke was on him. For some reason, Merry now did seem to believe his story about the mysterious girl, but he thought of her as some sort of spectral being. This gave Frodo a headache that had nothing to do with his cold.

Unbeknownst to Frodo as he lay in bed recovering from his "cold", Merry and Pippin had replaced him as sentinels at Robin's smial. They fought over fruits and snacks, told jokes and threw little pebbles at passing hobbits to pass the time while sitting on a bench a few meters away from the house. When Robin left early in the morning on his way to the market, Merry waved.

"Hey!"

Robin threw him a sidelong glance and continued on this way without a word.

"Pretty unsociable," Pippin commented.

Merry made a face at Robin's retreating back.

After some time, the boy's father also left the house to head to The Bridge Inn. His face looked horrible, sallow and sunken, like something one might encounter in the Barrow-Downs. His craggy features frightened them so they hid their eyes with their hands, peeking in between their fingers as he passed them by. Merry wondered how Robin could even sleep with such a face in the same living quarters.

They continued keeping watch after that, but by lunchtime Pippin's patience was wearing thin as his belly took precedence over his curiosity.

"I'm so hungry I could eat a whole cow. Let's go Merry. This game is boring!"

"It's not a game, Pip."

Pippin protested with arms crossed over his chest. "Nothing will happen if all we do is sit here."

Merry nodded. "You're right. I have an idea!"

Several minutes of debate later found them crawling on all fours towards the front door. They stuck close to the wall, one behind the other.

"This is your idea?" Pippin whispered breathlessly from behind. "To just break in?"

"Why not?" Merry answered in the same tone, looking back. "Both Robin and his Dad are out, so no one's home."

Pippin bit his lip. "What about…her?"

"Don't be silly. She's a ghost, Pip. She won't be out in the daylight."

Pippin's belly chose that moment to ache and growl in hunger.

"Peregrin!"

"Sorry!" Pippin smiled, though not feeling sorry one bit.

Grateful for the tall weeds and the unkempt bushes that blocked them from sight of the road, Merry stood up with his back against the wall and seized the doorknob with one hand. With the other, he signaled for Pippin not to make a sound. Slowly, he turned the knob and pushed. The door slid inward with a creak that made them both grimace. The boys exchanged one last look before Merry slipped through the crack of the round door.

Pippin was about to follow him inside when Merry suddenly let out a wild scream that froze him in place. He heard the din of metal clashing against wood and then Merry had thrown himself to the floor with his furry feet sticking out the door. Pippin pushed the door open all the way and rushed to Merry's side.

"Merry! What's wrong? Merry!"

Merry twirled around wildly, but he wasn't looking at Pippin. With a shaky hand, he pointed a finger in front of him. Pippin followed his gaze, half-expecting to see a floating Wight charging towards him from the dark. But it wasn't a Wight.

Pippin let out a whimper and crawled behind Merry, trying to put some distance between him and a wild-looking hobbit girl with blond curls masking half of her face. She held a frying pan in both hands and her wide eyes jumped from one boy to the other, almost feral.

"She's real! She's real!" Merry cried in a strangled voice.

Pippin's knees suddenly went weak, and he had to hold on to Merry to avoid falling on his behind.

Of the three, Allie was the first to note that they seemed just as afraid of her as she was of them. Slowly, she lowered the frying pan and wondered whether she should run away instead. But where would she go? This was her house!

"Who are you? What are you doing in my house?" she asked in a shrill voice.

"She speaks!" Pippin choked, on the verge of tears.

Merry, however, seemed to pull himself together somewhat. He rose to his feet shakily and stole a glance at the round door left ajar. Thoughts of making a run for it precluded all else. Allie noticed the look he threw at her door and shut it closed just as Merry bolted for it.

Merry ended up colliding with her shoulder instead, but at the touch of her skin he backed away as though he'd been burned. Pippin had sunk to his knees now and watched everything unfold from a curled up position on the ground, his green eyes wide with fear.

Merry rubbed at his shoulder, staring at her now with mouth agape. She was not a specter if he could touch her! Inching forward slowly, one small step at a time, he closed the distance between himself and the wild-looking lass. She followed his movements with mounting suspicion and was on the verge of raising the frying pan again when the boy merely poked her arm with one finger.

She backed away from him. "What are you doing?" she shouted.

Merry looked at her in wonder. "Pippin…Pippin!" he called without taking his eyes off her. "She's real! I can touch her!"

"Of course I'm real! What are you saying?"

Pippin stood up then, still a bit unsteady, and came to hide behind Merry.

"Who are you?" Merry asked in wonder.

The girl gripped the pan until her knuckles turned white. "That's my question! _You_ broke into _my_ house!"

"I…we did not know there was anyone home!"

The two hobbits watched her gray eyes narrow. "Oh, so that makes it all right to break in then?"

Merry raised his hands in a sign of peace. "Okay, you're right! I'm sorry! But we didn't know… I mean, do you live here?"

For the first time since he snuck in, Merry got a good look at the place. It looked just as shabby inside as it did out. He saw only one room, and what he perceived to be a bathroom. There was no furniture that Merry could see in the dark space, except for an overused couch and a set of blankets laid out on the floor near the window. In the farthest corner, a closet stood with wooden doors left ajar. Winter clothes and overcoats were stacked inside in messy piles. The room where they stood was adjacent to a kitchen where a countertop connected to an iron washbasin. On the far right, the hearth was cold and empty save for one cooking pot hanging from a trammel.

"Yes, I live here," Allie replied defensively.

Shocked at what he considered unlivable conditions, Merry turned his attention back to the girl. Pointing at himself, he spoke slowly, "I am Merry. This is Pippin. Pippin is not from here, but I live on Buck Hill."

Her eyes shone with recognition. "You mean the tall hill outside the village?"

"Yes, that's the place!"

Pippin also nodded, and finally stepped away from hiding behind Merry. "What's your name?" he asked curiously.

Allie pressed her lips together and nervously played with the handle of the frying pan. What if this was all a trick from father to test her obedience? Not, that was ridiculous. Merry and Pippin were both looking at her with round and curious eyes and didn't seem to mean her any harm.

"Allie," she finally answered cautiously as if her very name precluded doom. "Allie Brandybuck."

"Brandybuck?" Merry echoed in amazement.

"Yes, why?" she asked suspiciously.

"Oh yes, I remember now that my Dad said you were Brandybucks! Well, I'm a Brandybuck too, so we might actually be cousins!"

Her hard expression melted into one of surprise. "Really? Cousins?"

Merry was thoughtful for a second. "Well, probably very very very very distant cousins."

"Hey," Pippin cut in, suddenly cheerful and forgetting all his previous fears. "That means you're cousins with me, too. I'm cousins with Merry, and you are cousins with Merry. So that makes us cousins too!"

Allie looked from one to the other, trying to detect any signs that they were pulling her leg, but they seemed too blissfully happy and oblivious to be lying. She had never considered having any family other than her father and her brother. Could they be for real?

"Wait, if I'm really your cousin, what does it all mean? Are we family now?"

"Well," Merry began, and then grew unsettled at the question. "Pippin, uh, what exactly does it all mean?"

Pippin tapped his chin with a thoughtful finger, and then his face brightened with a broad smile. "Well, you and I are cousins so we play together! That's what it comes down to: playing!"

At this, Allie's traits hardened again. She wasn't supposed to let others see her, let alone play with them. The situation was quickly getting out of her control and the consequences suddenly terrified her.

"What's wrong?" Pippin said.

Worried, Merry asked, "Was that too big a revelation for you?"

"I…I can't play."

Merry frowned. "Why not?"

Allie bit her lip. She knew better than to say father didn't allow it.

Pippin spoke up when she didn't readily answer. "Why do you never go out of the house? That's why Merry and I thought you were a ghost!"

She laughed suddenly, and the boys looked at each other with moody frowns, knowing she was laughing at them. But Allie quickly regained her seriousness as the severity of her situation dawned upon her again. It was already too late to ask them to pretend they never saw her. They wouldn't do as she asked anyway and they weren't likely to leave her alone now that they knew she existed. What she needed was a clever way to make them keep their mouths shut.

Taking in a deep breath, she conceded, "All right, then. Let's play."

The boys just stared at her and Allie stared back quite seriously. "Since being cousins means we play together, then we should do it. But it has to be a secret."

Every time someone mentioned the word "secret", it excited Pippin, and now was no different. "A secret from whom?"

"From everyone! Only you two can know, all right? You absolutely can't tell anyone else!"

"Deal!" Pippin agreed immediately.

Merry was more suspicious. As general rule, one he strove to uphold, he didn't play with girls. But he was also curious about why this girl had been hiding all this time. He decided to play along for the moment, but not before asking, "Why does it have to be a secret?"

Allie thought about it for a few seconds, but not for too long, lest they grow suspicious. "Because it's part of the game. When we are playing, no one can see us. If someone sees us, the game will end and I won't be able to play with you lads anymore. So it's very important that no one ever knows about me."

"Deal! Deal!" Pippin was now bouncing up and down.

_Now that's an interesting challenge!_ Merry thought. A flicker of excitement pushed Merry's suspicions to the background.

From that day forward, Merry, Pippin and Allie played together every afternoon, though Allie made sure she was back home before dinnertime. When Merry asked why, she said it was one of the rules. In fact, their game had many rules, but the main ones were, one, she had to be home before dinnertime; two, they couldn't come to her house anymore (instead, she met them every day in the woods beyond the grassy field); three, they had to avoid places with too many people; and four, not to ask too many questions.

Usually they played tag in the grassy field, or went down to the Brandywine River and competed to see who could throw pebbles the farthest. Merry and Pippin had never played with a hobbit girl before. They always thought girls were boring because all they did was sit around all day picking flowers or following their mothers around. And they cried a lot when they fell or got dirty or because someone teased them.

To their surprise, Allie was none of those things. She could run as fast as they could, throw rocks as good as they could, and wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty in the mud. Her behavior didn't differ from any of the hobbit lads they knew. In fact, she wore a pair of brown pants like a boy, with shoulder straps over a yellow shirt, and often looked as dirty as they were…sometimes even more. A strap of some kind usually held her long blond hair in place, but her hair still managed to look messy no matter what she did.

Soon, Merry and Pippin both stopped thinking of her as a girl altogether. And Merry … well, he forgot all about finding out why she had been hiding.

As for Allie, the whole thing had started as a way to keep the two boys from telling the adults about her, but if she were being honest, she had never felt happier since she came to the Shire. She didn't think playing with other children could be this much fun. Merry and Pippin were both very eager, and they usually had some brilliant ideas, like stealing farmer Cotman's goose and rubbing her back as the three of them hid behind piles of hay. Apparently, according to Merry, such rubbing could make the goose lay a golden egg. They tried it until the poor bird nearly lost its mind and started to bite at their fingers. Finally, Pippin held it up in his arms, seized it by the neck to avoid its dangerous beak, and brought it back to farmer Cotman's pen when no one was watching. Merry protested that it would only have taken a little longer to rub the egg out of her, leaving Allie laughing till she was crying.

She may have only spent a few days playing with them, but she had already forgotten how miserable her life was before. Even her father's fits of anger were bearable now, when all she had to do was shut her eyes at night to block out his shouting and discontent and focus on tomorrow when she'd get to see Merry and Pippin again.

* * *

When Frodo got over his cold, he noticed Merry and Pippin were acting suspicious. They left early in the morning and then were nowhere to all day. When they did come back home, they were exhausted, their clothes wet, and sometimes there were twigs in their hair. On the second morning of Frodo's recovery, leaving home after breakfast, he saw his two younger friends going down the road, heads bent close together and whispering secrets to each other.

Frodo intercepted their path to meet them in the center of the road. "What's with the rope?" he asked as way of greeting.

Merry and Pippin froze, but it was Merry who recovered enough to speak. "Frodo! Your mother finally let you out?"

Frodo frowned, annoyed. "It was about time! So, what trouble are you getting yourselves into these days? I heard about the goose. Cotman complained about it to my Dad."

"Goose? What goose?" Pippin asked innocently. "Merry, do you know about a goose?"

"Lying won't do you any good," Frodo said. "When I heard the story, I knew immediately that it was you two." The two troublemakers chuckled, making Frodo even more suspicious. Eyeing the rope, he asked, "Where are you headed now?"

"We're going to play a game," Pippin said without thinking. "Do you want to join…?"

Before he could finish, Merry elbowed him in the ribs. They exchanged a look, and a flash of remembrance crossed Pippin's eyes.

"Join you? I'm afraid not. Merry, you have yet to believe me about the girl. Well I'm telling you she exists and I will find proof!" To his astonishment, Merry suddenly burst out laughing. Frodo shook his head. "You still think it's ridiculous, don't you?"

Merry and Pippin exchanged another look. "Good luck, Frodo," Merry said and waved goodbye, his smile devious. "I hope you find her."

Pippin ran after him, and waved to Frodo as well.

Frodo crossed his arms in a huff. "Fine, we'll see who'll be the one laughing in the end! And it won't be you, Meriadoc!"

Sometime later, Merry and Pippin reached the woods where they often met Allie, but there was no sign of her yet. _Good,_ Merry thought. He could use this time to knock some sense into his friend. He turned to Pippin with a serious look.

"Pip, how can you be so foolish? How could you ask Frodo to play with us? You know the rules of the game!"

Pippin waved away Merry's concerns and looked around impatiently, wondering why Allie was late. "I know, I know. I just forgot for a second. It won't happen again."

"It better not!"

The two hobbits jumped upon hearing the voice. They looked around to see Allie perched on the branch of a tree with her legs dangling in the air. She smiled at them and waved.

"Allie! How did you get up there?" Merry asked in awe.

"Why, I climbed, of course." Their shocked expression amused her. "Don't tell me you've never climbed a tree before?"

"Not that high," Pippin whispered reverentially.

"You should try it sometime! The view is quite lovely from here! Oh, Merry, did you bring the rope?"

Merry nodded, showing it to her. Allie climbed down the branches graciously, and under the apprehensive stares of her two friends, she jumped down onto the ground from the lowest branch.

"I found a pond outside the village, in that direction," she said as she pointed to the Southeast.

Merry and Pippin exchanged a look. "We know about it, but our parents don't like it when we play near ponds."

The River was a different story since so many other hobbits abounded, fishing or boating, but their parents were much more strict about ponds and lakes in the middle of nowhere.

Allie, however, was puzzled by that answer. "Why not? It's a hot day today."

"I don't know, they say it's dangerous," Merry shrugged.

"They say bad things are going to eat us if we go inside," Pippin added with wide eyes.

Allie frowned. "Bad things? But I've been in the water already and nothing happened."

Merry's jaw dropped open. "You went into the pond?"

"Merry, are you _scared?" _Allie mocked_._

"Of course not!" Merry replied immediately, and then turned to Pippin as though all this was his fault. "Pippin, you shouldn't believe everything your mum and dad say!"

Allie repressed a chuckle and then skipped ahead to lead the way. They walked for a good portion of the early afternoon across fields, up and down the slopes and ridges of small hills. They could have gotten there faster if they had taken the main road, but Allie didn't want to risk someone seeing them. So they trudged their way through undergrowth until they saw a shiny expanse of water among the trees. Merry and Pippin fell to the ground at the water's edge and wiped the sweat from their foreheads.

The clear blue expanse of water shined like diamonds in the spots where the sun reached through the swaying boughs of the ring of trees. It was quiet all around, not another soul for miles. However, discreet sounds of life filled the ambient air. Birds fluttered from branch to branch, letting out musical trills in their wake, squirrels scurried among the grass and in the treetops, and everywhere came the buzzing of insects. Ducks were swimming in the center of the pond, their black eyes surveying the newcomers in curiosity. From under the water came a flash of red or green as fish swam by, some of them breaking the water's surface for a second or two before diving back in.

Allie wet her face with the delightfully cool water, and raked her hands across her curls to rearrange them. Then, she walked to a tree overhanging one extremity of the pound and climbed up with practiced ease. Crouched on a branch that extended over the water, she took the rope and wrapped one end around the wood under her feet. When she finished, she climbed down to the base of the tree as Merry and Pippin watched with growing curiosity. When she was on land, she pulled on the rope to test its strength. Finally, she nodded, satisfied.

"Is this a new game?" Pippin wondered.

Allie smiled mysteriously. "You'll see."

The rope was quite long, so she rolled up the other end and tied it into a knot. She gripped the rope tight in both hands and then stepped on the knot.

Merry was beginning to understand, and he hurried to Allie's side. She gave him a bright smile as she took a few steps back and then pushed herself forward after placing both feet on the knot. She screamed as she swung all the way above the water and back again. Kicking the truck on the return approach, she swung out even farther. Every time she flew above the water was a thrill of excitement and fear. She didn't know how to swim, which made the game all the more dangerous and exciting because something was on the line.

"My turn, my turn!" Pippin cried out, pushing Merry out of the way, ignoring his "hey" of protest.

The three hobbits took turns swinging out over the pond. At first Pippin closed his eyes and his knees buckled at the sight of all that water underneath him. But with a few more tries, his fear all but vanished and he competed with the others to see who could swing the farthest.

Then, they held another competition in which they each held a rock, and when they swung out over the water, they were to throw the rock as far as they could. The goal was to get it to land on the opposite shore, which was 30 meters or so away. The boys had more strength and could throw farther, but Allie could swing out farther, and so the competition ended in a tie as no one managed to get their rock to solid land.

Throughout their entire play, every time it was Merry's turn, he would act as though he might fall, waving one arm wildly and letting out cries of alarm as his shadow danced on the water below. He laughed madly at his friends' faces who bought it every time. However, he would find out soon enough that what went around came around.

With the sun lower in the sky, the hobbits decided they had enough, but not before one last swing. Merry went first, hollering wildly, when suddenly the knot under his feet came undone.

"Help!" he screamed out in alarm. Allie rolled her eyes with her back to him, already ready to go. _That trick won't work forever,_ she thought just as Pippin cried out Merry's name. His cry was followed by a large splash. She turned around sharply and saw Merry struggling to stay afloat two meters or so from shore. The empty rope swung back to the tree and collided limply against the trunk.

"Merry!" she yelled and ran to the edge of the water.

Merry was flapping his arms around crazily with his head half submerged. Pippin started crying. Allie looked around, wild-eyed, but there was no one around. But even if someone could hear them, they probably wouldn't know how to swim any better than she and Pippin did. She watched in horror as Merry's head went under.

Pippin's last sob strangled in his throat when he heard another splash beside him. Then, he saw Allie's blond head bobbing in the water not far from shore. His eyes widened in horror.

"Allie! What are you doing?" he yelled.

Merry's head was out again and he let out a strangled scream, but Allie was now still. Her head stayed out of water but she wasn't struggling or moving at all. She just stared at Merry, who was still flapping his arms and yelling.

"Are you done, Meriadoc?" she suddenly asked in pure anger.

And then, she actually stood up. The water went no lower than her chest. Merry's tormented face split into the hugest smile ever as he stood up as well, laughing his head off.

"I got you!" he said between two bouts of laughter. "I got you both so bad!"

Pippin was stomping his foot in outrage. "Merry! How could you! I'm not speaking to you ever again!"

Allie ran in the water towards Merry, yelling how indecent that was of him. Merry just laughed and let her chase him all the way up the shore. While Allie stopped to pant for breath, Merry remained at a respectable distance, wiping tears that squeezed out from laughing too hard. Allie ignored him as she twisted the water from her clothes and hair. Merry did likewise, but shook his head like a dog instead, sending water droplets everywhere. Allie sent him an accusing glare, and then marched off.

"Some things are not funny!" Pippin said and shoved his still laughing cousin in the ribs before following after Allie.

On the way back, Pippin and Allie both ignored Merry, who walked a few steps behind, mocking them until he grew tired of their unresponsiveness. As they neared Allie's house, Merry took the girl by the arm.

"All right, Allie. Please do forgive me. It was in poor taste but I couldn't resist."

Allie flicked him on the forehead. "As long as you know it!"

Merry rubbed his forehead as his eyes turned somewhat serious. "Did I scare you so badly that you lost your mind? Why did you jump after me if you don't know how to swim?"

At this, Allie crossed her arms. "A very good question! Maybe I should have just left you there instead. My clothes would still have been dry!"

"Such hurtful words!" Merry let out dramatically.

Allie resumed her walk but Merry caught up with her easily. "Well, whether you lost your mind or not, it was a brave thing, what you did."

She turned to him, not sure if he was still mocking her, but he gave her a toothy smile and added, "I now truly believe you are a Brandybuck."

Allie sketched a smile. "Is that supposed to be good thing?"

"Of course! You should be proud!"

"With you in the family, I'm not so sure," she answered, which made Pippin laugh.

Merry saw that as a sign of forgiveness and happily skipped ahead. Allie and Pippin exchanged a glance and sighed, before smiling at each other. Yes, they supposed they could forgive their wayward friend for now.

"Same time tomorrow, lads?" she asked when they reached her smial.

"Yes! Let's go back to the pond!"

Pippin also agreed eagerly.

They separated in the grassy field, but Allie stayed behind, looking around uneasily. She had the feeling she was being watched. Merry and Pippin's retreating backs disappeared rapidly among the twigs, and soon all she could hear was the sound of the wind rustling through the grass. Then she happened to direct her gaze upward and saw a figure on the hill overhanging her house. She squinted, recognizing the hobbit with dark hair.

"Buggers!"

She crawled among the grass and approached her own house from the other side of the hill. The front door, however, faced the hobbit who was watching her. She looked around nervously; her brother would be back soon.

Crawling once again, she went to their one window, which faced the road leading away into the heart of the village. The old lady who lived next door was not out in her garden at this time of day, and few people actually came to their house. The hobbit on the hill probably wouldn't see her if she entered by the window. Quietly, but swiftly, she pushed the window upwards and open, and then jumped inside. She landed hard on her hands and then rolled a little before finally coming to a stop, breathing rapidly in victory.

Allie, one.

Hobbit with dark hair, zero.

Merry and Pippin got back to Brandy Hall a while later and tried to sneak back into Merry's room unnoticed, but they weren't as lucky as Allie. As they tiptoed along one of the secondary tunnels, hands suddenly seized them by the collar of their shirts.

"Master Meriadoc! Master Peregrin!"

Merry tensed up at the familiar voice. It was one of the maidservants at Brandy Hall, a middle-aged woman with graying temples who had nursed Merry ever since he was a baby.

"Emma," Merry mumbled, and his heart sank.

"Goodness, why are your clothes all wet? Have you been playing near the family well again?"

Merry kept silent. It was better than admitting he had fallen into a pond, which would surely send the old maid into hysterics.

Emma flapped her tongue in defeat. "What will Mistress Esmeralda do with you? She will certainly not be pleased."

"Please don't tell my Mom. Please!" Merry begged with big, innocent eyes.

Pippin added timidly, "Please?"

Emma stared at them for several seconds, before sighing in defeat. "All right, all right. Go get changed. You've missed luncheon and afternoon tea, and now there'll be nothing to eat until dinner. Where've you been all day? You've never missed a meal before!"

It was then Merry and Pippin realized how hungry they were. Sullenly, they headed down the hallway towards Merry's room.

"Goodness gracious!" resounded Esmeralda's voice. Merry jumped and his eyes widened in panic as his mother approached swiftly, taking in her son's wet and muddy appearance. "Whatever happened to you, child?"

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Emma and Pippin both excusing themselves, and Merry muttered something about betrayal. Esmeralda knelt down, her hands busying themselves all over Merry's body, clothes, and still damp hair.

"I was just playin'," Merry said, slurring the words together.

"Near the well? Your father and I have told you many times not to bother the gardeners as they draw the water up! Look at Pippin! He's still properly dressed. Why can't you behave more like your cousin?"

At that moment Berilac and his mother passed by the hall, and Merry felt like disappearing underground. He hated it when his parents yelled at him in front of Berilac, and for good reason. Berilac didn't even suppress his mocking laughter as he passed Merry by.

"Mom, can we…talk elsewhere?" he begged, glaring at Berilac.

"No, Meriadoc. Your father is in his office and I don't want him to see you in this state. Come to my quarters immediately so that I can clean you up. As for your punishment, no going outside for three days!"

Merry almost choked. "But Mom! Pippin will be leaving in a few days and Al…" he clamped his hands in front of his mouth.

Esmeralda eyed him curiously. "And what?"

"And all I want is to spend more time with him," Merry hurried to answer. "You know I won't be able to see him at all once school starts." He said the word "school" with particular hatred.

Esmeralda rolled her eyes, but urged his son along. "Then you should not have gone and messed around near the well."

That evening at dinner, Merry stirred his potatoes in sulky silence, looking fresh but grumpy. Pippin was sitting beside him, trying to conceal his growing amusement, and Frodo looked at Merry curiously over his soup. The Brandybucks had the Baggins over for dinner, as they often did, and now the adults were chatting happily together.

"What happened to you?" Frodo finally asked, but Merry didn't say anything. He only stirred his potatoes more furiously than before.

"He's not to go out for three days," Pippin supplied in a light tone, and had to bend down to avoid Merry's flying handkerchief.

"It's not fair," Merry said. "Not fair at all."

"What have you done this time?" Frodo asked, laughing.

Since Merry still kept silent, Pippin looked around surreptitiously and beckoned Frodo closer, to which Frodo complied immediately. Their foreheads almost touching, Pippin whispered, "Merry's mother thinks we played near the well again, but the truth is, we went to a pond."

"WHAT?" Frodo yelled and then quickly looked around, but their parents were still absorbed in their own conversation. Merry kicked Pippin under the table. Frodo's eyes narrowed, looking at the two younger hobbits alternately. This was a new level of troublemaking, even for them. "And whose idea was that?"

Merry glared at Pippin with a look that clearly said, _Now look at what you've done!_ The boys pointed at each other at the same time.

"Merry's!"

"Pippin's!"

They shoved each other, frustrated. Frodo watched them, not amused. He thought it most likely Merry's idea, since he was the older of the two and the most undisciplined as well.

"And how was your day, Frodo?" Merry asked, trying to turn the attention away from his cousin and himself. "Any progress with the phantom girl?"

Frodo crossed his arms. He had kept his watch all afternoon from the headland up the hill, but in vain. She had not appeared again. "I'm not giving up. Give me another week or so, and I'll find out something one way or the other."

In case his surveillance didn't pay off, he already had a backup plan. But that bit of information he wouldn't tell Merry and Pippin. Lost in his thoughts, Frodo missed the meaningful smile the other two shared behind their hands.

* * *

The next day, rain poured down in buckets. Pippin was utterly disappointed by this nasty weather as he had spent the evening teasing Merry about all the fun he was going to have with Allie while Merry remained confined in his room working on his calligraphy. Now, though, with the rain coming down so hard, Paladin had forbidden him from leaving the house as well. Pippin was inconsolable until Pearl came to pamper him with cake and candy.

Allie, on the other hand, didn't let the weather deter her from going out. In fact, she loved the rain. It gave her perfect cover for wandering around town. Wearing a big piece of fabric over her head like a cloak, she walked among the other hobbits hurrying to reach their destination, or running to seek shelter from the rain. Many of the hobbits were dressed like her, so no one paid her any attention at all.

She ran down streets that, until this moment, she'd only seen from afar, and went to the market, where she watched her brother sitting behind a stand of apples and staring at the rain morosely. She smiled at the sight of him. On both sides of her, she saw other smials built inside the slope of the hills. The gardens outside were well maintained with all kinds of flowers blooming. Dogs lay in front of some doors, sleeping or just keeping watch.

The heart of town was where all the businesses were: the forges, the inns, the food stands, the winery, the library, the infirmary. But close to the pastureland, she came upon a wooden gate and beyond it a series of buildings around a courtyard. She tried to peer inside, but it was empty. There were a string of letters on the gate, but she didn't know how to read.

The rain was still falling monotonously. It wasn't a storm this time, no thunder or lightning to disturb the quiet melody of the falling water. She walked out of Bucklebury village and saw Buck Hill before her. That's where Merry lived, and where Pippin also stayed. There was a smaller flow of people along the road going up Buck Hill, so she didn't risk exploring there, but from what she could see through the curtain of rain, the smials and their adjoining gardens were much bigger. There were many private animal pens, as well, that appeared to belong to the households, and not to the community, like those in the market.

Allie walked back into the fields again, where she felt most at ease, crossing several flowery ones empty of both people and cattle, until she reached the Brandywine River. The waters were calm as they ran past her, going who-knew-where. She wondered where she might end up if she just followed the broad river to the end. Did the waters end in a big pond? Maybe they fell down into the center of the Earth.

Looking across the River to the other shore that she could barely discern through the rain, she wondered what it was like on the other side. She walked and walked along the River until she came upon something floating on the water close to shore. Curious, she approached to get a better look, and realized that it must be some sort of raft. There was a wooden stick to one side of it. Could one use it to paddle the water and guide the raft? A rope tied the raft to a pole on a wooden platform built upon the water. As she approached it, the raft pitched wildly, tossed this way and that by wild currents. Her heart started pounding as she neared the platform, and after making sure no one was around, she walked on it. She took twenty steps or so and stopped, wrapping the cloak more tightly around herself. She peered down at the gray water rushing past the raft, making it bump against the pier. She was wondering what would happen if she stepped on it, when a voice came from behind her.

"Hey, you, what are you doing?"

Startled, she turned. Behind her stood a fat hobbit, wearing a round hat and holding an umbrella. He was near the pier, craning his neck to look at her more closely. Hiding her face with the cloak, she ran past him as fast as she could, ignoring his shouts. She turned around to see if he followed but his shape was already fading in the distance. Not slowing down, she ran along the River until she came upon a big stone building. Its doors swung open as several laughing hobbits stepped out, bracing themselves against the weather. Allie came to a stop underneath an overhanging window from which she peered inside the room.

The place was warmly illuminated, had many tables, as well as a small round bar. It was crowded at this time of day since all the hobbits who usually worked in the surrounding farms and market had mustered to seek a drink and shelter against the rain. She realized suddenly this must be an Inn, and then she spotted her father cleaning the floor at the far end of the room between two sets of tables. She lowered herself abruptly with her back against the wall, and then ran swiftly away.

She didn't stop until she reached a large pasture enclosed by a wooden fence. She sneaked between the two wooden slats, ignoring the few cows lazily grazing wet grass. She crossed the pasture, careful not to walk on cow dung, and climbed a hill at the other end. There were a couple of trees on top of the hill, but what claimed her whole attention was the view. From that high place, she saw a great deal of Buckland extended before her: the pasture, the fields, Bucklebury village, Buck Hill, and the Brandywine at her right, all mixing into an amazing tapestry of colors. She saw the stone road crossing over the village, leading far North and South. The trees and the fields looked dim and gray under the rain clouds, but it was, nonetheless, nature at its best. It was a sight she had never seen before, and for that alone, it took her breath away.

Allie let the cloak fall from her shoulders and smiled, lifting her face toward the grey skies. Raindrops splattered on her forehead and her cheeks, seeping into her hair, now flattened against the top of her head and her neck. She closed her eyes, raised her hands palms up and slowly twirled in the rain, enjoying the sound of it as it met the earth and enjoying the feeling of connectedness with the world that was blossoming in her heart or the first time since she was here.

Maybe, just maybe, one day she could think of this place as home.

* * *

**Author's notes:** I just want to take a quick moment to thank all of you who are reading this story! I'm really having fun writing this and building up the characters. It may seem a bit slow paced for now, but at this stage, it is intended to be sort of slice-of-life. Thank you again, and for those who were wondering, yes, I do intend to finish this story, and I will be updating this regularly. :)


	5. First Friend

**First Friend**

Allie laughed and laughed as Pippin told her in vivid detail how the housemaid, Emma, thwarted each of Merry's attempts to escape from his room. They were both sitting at the edge of the pond ("their" pond, as they thought of it now), with their feet in the water.

"Good for him! That will teach him to play bad jokes on us," she concluded with a nod.

"Yes, but he's going insane. He might start climbing up the walls soon."

"Didn't you say he will be ungrounded tomorrow? Buggers! He deserves to be grounded for the whole week because of the scare he gave us."

After that, they sat for a moment in silence, enjoying the musical trills of birds hidden in the canopy. Allie's fingers absentmindedly played with blades of grass under her thigh. She pulled off a blade and threw it in the pond, watching as it floated away lazily. Grass floated on water, so why couldn't she? Every time she ventured inside the pond, her body sank like a rock when she drew both feet up.

"Do you know how to swim, Pip?" she asked, struck by an idea.

Pippin shook his head, his green eyes wide.

"I want to learn," Allie decided thoughtfully. "Doesn't anyone know how?"

"I think grownups are all scared of going near the water."

"Why? There's only fish in the water, not monsters."

Before Pippin could reply, she rolled up her pants and, much to the other boy's horror, started to march determinedly down into the pond.

"Allie, are you out of your mind? Don't do it!"

"It's all right, Pip. What I've realized from Merry's prank is that the water isn't deep close to shore." After a few more steps, she turned to see Pippin still stunned into immobility. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

Pippin swallowed, thinking this was the worst idea ever, but he rolled up his pants nonetheless and followed her into the cool water. He shuddered at the touch, only moving forward again when his feet had gotten used to the temperature. Far ahead, Allie had water up to her waist. Pippin suddenly stepped on something slippery (probably some kind of algae) and lost his balance. The whole left side of his body almost dipped into the water.

"I'm not going any further!" he cried.

"Scaredy-cat!" Allie teased and stuck out her tongue.

"Am not! It's just that I don't want to get punished like Merry for going home all wet!" It was a lie and he knew it.

"We can let our clothes dry off before going home today."

Out of excuses, Pippin made a face and braced himself to continue following her deeper and deeper into the pond. When the water came just over their waists, Allie crouched down and submerged her head under the surface. Pippin didn't even have time to scream before she popped back up, coughing, choking, and spitting water out of her mouth and nose.

Pippin eyed her anxiously. "See! I told you it was a bad idea!"

Allie coughed one more time and looked at Pippin with a glint in her eyes that he had learned to associate with some upcoming extravagant idea. "I think," she finally said, "you're not just supposed to breathe underwater."

"Not breathe? How do you suppose we do _that_?"

"Like…" She inhaled, pinched her nose, and kept her mouth shut, holding the air in. Pippin laughed at her at first, but when she urged him to try it, it amazed him that he couldn't draw air in from his nose anymore. He watched her dive back underwater one more time, and this time she stayed there. Her curls unfolded around her head like an aura. He was starting to panic again when she broke the surface and wiped her face dry with one hand, grinning from ear to ear.

"It worked, Pip, it worked!"

"Really?" Pippin stared at her, amazed.

"Yes, come on, you try it too!"

Pippin looked at her, finally letting the fear he felt show in his eyes.

She patted his shoulder. "It'll be all right. Trust me."

Pippin was breathing fast, but looking in her eyes, he found his courage. After all, he was never one to back down from new challenges. After inhaling as much air as he could, Pippin pinched his nose and ducked his head underwater. At first, there was only the cold, but after he got used to the temperature, he opened his eyes a little. Then a little more. What he saw made him open his mouth in an "oh" of surprise that created a string of bubbles rising up to the surface. There were rocks under his feet and weeds swaying in the water. Fish swam by then disappeared into the gloom with their tails swishing. Before long, his lungs were burning. Returning to the surface, Pippin gulped in air greedily.

A warm sensation of pride and exhilaration spread within him as Allie stood in front of him, clapping excitedly. He gave her a grin so big he thought it might split his face in half. "I did it! That was wonderful!"

They did it again and again, one at a time then both at the same time. They made faces at each other under the water and let out bubbles from their mouths. When Pippin took in some water by mistake and started choking, Allie tapped him on the back and laughed.

"So do we know how to swim now?" Pippin asked when he managed to get his breath back.

"I don't know. I think in part. But yesterday, I saw a dog fall into the Brandywine River. I thought it was going to drown for certain, but then it started paddling like this…"

She lifted her feet off the bottom of the pond and flopped her arms frantically in the water, trying to imitate the dog. She soon began to sink, however.

Pippin laughed at her again. "You look ridiculous!"

"It's hard to do! You try it too!"

Pippin tried to imitate her movements, but to no avail. Soon, they just ended up splashing each other like mad until Pippin called for a break and crawled back on shore, totally exhausted. Allie joined him and fell on her back, gasping. The two of them were grinning so hard their cheeks hurt.

Pippin took off his shirt and pants, and spread them on the grass to let them dry under the sun. Allie took off her pants, as well, but after a moment's thought, decided to keep her shirt on. They both lay down under the shadow of a tree and kept quiet, gazing at the span of blue sky between the tree branches swaying in the wind.

"Merry will be so jealous," Pippin finally said.

"We'll come back here with him."

He nodded, but then suddenly his face fell. "My father says we'll be leaving in a few days."

She turned to look at him. "Where do you live?"

"In Tuckborough."

"Tuck…? Where's that?"

"It's a town far from here, all the way on the other side of the Brandywine."

Suddenly interested, Allie propped herself up on an elbow."Your home is on the other side of the River? What's it like there?"

Pippin shrugged. "There are way more hills than here. To get there, you cross the Brandywine Bridge and follow Stock Road till the very end. On the way, you circle around the Marish and then cross a huge forest."

"What's a marish?"

"It's just land, but it's boggy. Apparently, there are areas you can't walk on or else you'd sink."

Allie's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yes! There are stories of hobbits getting buried underneath the ground there because they walked into the Marish and the earth swallowed them whole."

She tried to picture it in her mind and saw a breach in the earth with teeth. It opened up under the feet of unsuspecting hobbits and chewed them to pieces. Allie sat up. It sounded so thrilling and so dangerous, and Pippin wasn't even done with the tale. (Trying to get rid of the "However.")

"Farmer Maggot lives close to my village. He has a huge farm with scary dogs. But his vegetables are really delicious, they say. Some of my friends back home once tried to steal carrots from him, but the dogs came chasing after them and almost ate them alive. My friends ran and ran, and finally managed to escape the dogs. They thought they were saved, but it was a trap, because they ended up in the Marish. You see, the dogs don't go into the Marish, but they chase all the thieves there to let the earth swallow them and punish them."

Allie listened, enthralled. It sounded a thousand times more exciting than Bucklebury village.

"I want to go there someday, Pip! Do you think it's possible?"

Pippin's eyes gleamed mischievously. "Absolutely! That is something we'll have to do one day, Merry, you and I."

They fell silent once more, each thinking of the Marish and of Farmer Maggot's dogs, when Pippin groaned again in unhappiness.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I just remembered…"

"What?"

"School is starting soon."

Pippin looked so forlorn she could only imagine the worst. "What is school?"

Pippin's eyes went wide. "You don't know what school is? Have you never been there?" Allie shook her head no, and Pippin looked at her strangely. "Wait, how old are you?"

Allie thought about it. Honestly, she didn't know how old she was. They'd never celebrated her birthday, although she did know what a birthday was, for father celebrated Robin's sometimes, when he managed to remember. In those instances, father brought a cake home from the bakery and stuck a candle on it for Robin to blow. Then, they would share the cake, and that was all. Even though they'd never celebrated hers, Robin had once given her an estimate of her age.

She now relayed that knowledge to Pippin. "I'm nine."

For a second, Pippin had thought she was younger than he was. _That's a relief!_ he thought. "And you've not been to school yet? Here, we start school at six. So it's already been a year since I've started going to that awful place."

Allie could only show her puzzlement. "What do you do at this school?"

Pippin scowled. "Appalling things, mostly. You have to sit around all day while the teacher speaks. Then you write things, and read things. And you have homework." Pippin looked pained to utter the last word.

Allie was thoughtful for a moment. "Does Merry have to go there too?"

"Yes, every kid has to go. Will you be going?"

Allie never heard her father or brother mention school. In fact, Robin had never gone to such a place either. She thought it must be a Shire thing.

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"How very lucky!" Pippin exclaimed, pouting. "Merry will kill you when he hears about it. He hates school."

Allie, however, was thoughtful after their conversation. She soon felt as if she had played enough for one day, so Pippin and she started back for home.

* * *

The next day, Allie was eyeing the fish swimming in the pond, wondering whether she could catch one if she suddenly struck down with the wooden stick her fingers were playing with. She was hungry a lot lately. Father came home drunk more and more often and there was less money for food because of it. Yet, he still insisted on having meat every night when he came home. Allie didn't see the point, since he would throw it all up by morning anyway. Robin grew angrier day after day, but he was scared of their father. He once begged him to drink less, only for father to yell at him. Trying to talk reason into him was pointless; he would never listen to either of them.

Sometimes she would catch him watching her while she cooked his late-night dinner bent over the hearth. There was always anger in his eyes, but sometimes she saw a flicker of something else, something like recognition, and then afterward he would get even angrier. During those times, she brought him his plate, a fork and a cup of water, not daring to look him in the eye.

Allie sighed.

"Well?" Merry asked beside her, interrupting her thoughts. "Are you ready to go for another round of swimming?"

Allie smiled at him. "You go again."

When Merry's mother let him out again and Merry learned that Pippin and Allie could now put their heads underwater, he sulked in silence for a long time. Once done mulling over the injustice of such a thing, he threw a tantrum, demanding Allie teach him as well. To her surprise, Merry was even more afraid of the water than Pippin. It took him almost half the day to manage not to choke, since he always panicked and sucked in water when he was submerged. But he ended up conquering the breath holding technique as well.

However, none of the three hobbits knew how to stay afloat until Allie one day brought a board made of cedar she stole from the garbage of one of her neighbors. She threw the board in the water and held on to it as she paddled around the pond with her legs. Merry and Pippin ran around the pond, shouting encouragement and trying to avoid the water she splashed in their direction with her feet. And then of course, they demanded to have their turn.

Allie and Pippin now lay on the grass, each with a twig in their mouth, while Merry swam a zigzag in the water, hollering joyously.

It was now nearing the end of August, and as Allie followed a flock of birds flying in a V among the clouds, she thought back to what Pippin said about school.

"Please don't remind me," cried Pippin when she mentioned it. "I don't want to go home yet."

"That's what you say every summer, Pip," Merry said from above them, dripping wet with the board under his arm.

Pippin's mouth twisted in distaste. "It's not fair. Not one bit. At least you two will stay together." He looked from Merry to Allie unhappily.

Allie sat up. "It will not be the same without you, Pippin."

Merry nodded, but deep down he was happy he wasn't in Pippin's shoes. It was fun playing with their new friend. She was even crazier than they were sometimes. She did things he hadn't even thought of before, like learning to swim. It angered him that grownups made stories about monsters in the water, or else he was sure Pippin and he would have attempted it much earlier. He supposed it took the thinking of someone from the outside, someone who knew nothing of their lifestyle, to break the boundaries of possibility. In any case, he could only imagine how bored he'd be without her around, and he felt sorry for Pippin for having to leave. But of course, he'd never say all that aloud.

"Pippin, even after you go back home, do remember the rules of our game, all right?" Allie reminded him. "No one must ever know you were playing with me."

Pippin nodded. "You can count on me. No one keeps a secret better than I."

"Speaking of which," Merry said, "Frodo is still being stubborn about finding you. He's been sneaking around your smial for many days now."

Allie surmised that he must be referring to the dark-haired boy. "I know. I'm being careful."

"He's really ticked off."

The three of them chuckled.

"He might be trying something new soon, so you better be watchful."

Allie nodded.

Merry thought back to how restless Frodo had been, as though his patience had finally worn thin. He knew Frodo couldn't afford to give up. He didn't want to lose face in front of his friend with whom he made the bet. Merry gave an evil grin at the thought, deciding to make sure he would thwart all Frodo's attempts to ever find Allie.

Then, a sudden thought disturbed him. "Is it really true that we'll not be able to play like this anymore once Frodo finds out about you?"

"It's not about him in particular. It's about everyone else. If my father finds out..." She cringed, realizing she said too much.

"Will your father be mad?" Pippin asked with wide eyes.

Allie nodded hesitantly.

"But why?" Merry asked with a confused frown.

"He just doesn't like it," she replied vaguely, not looking at either of them and wishing they would stop.

Merry thought that was weird. "Will your brother be mad, too?"

"Probably," she mumbled. "All right lads, remember rule number four? No more questions."

Merry ignored her warning this time. He was frowning in incomprehension. "Why would your father and brother be mad at you for having fun? Your family is bizarre! What's wrong with them?"

Allie glared at him. "Don't talk about them like that! There's nothing wrong, so don't you dare go around spilling lies about them!" She stood up then and stomped away. In a stupor, Merry watched her leave.

"Merry! You made her mad!" Pippin said, getting mad himself. "I told you not to ask her those things, but you won't listen!"

Merry frowned unhappily, but said nothing.

"You better go apologize, or she might not play with us anymore," Pippin continued with his hands on his hips.

"Why would I apologize?" Merry muttered. "I didn't do anything wrong. I was just asking her questions that I would ask all my friends." He stole a glance toward Allie, and seeing that she was heading home, he grumbled to Pippin that they better go after her.

They caught up with her as she entered the woods beside the grassy field. When Merry and Pippin grew near, she climbed a tree and sat on the lowest branch, not looking at them. Merry and Pippin conversed quietly at the foot of the tree, before Merry looked up. "Allie, are you still mad?"

Allie turned her head away. A look of determination crossed Merry's face, and he grabbed onto the bark. After struggling for a moment, he managed to climb to her level. She was looking at him now, half-impressed and half-annoyed. "So, you do know how to climb trees."

"I've never tried, but it seems easy enough. Anyway, I'm here to tell you that you better not stay mad at me any longer or I'll break all your rules and go to your house this instant!"

Pippin knocked his forehead against the bark of the tree. Why was it so hard for Merry to say sorry?

Allie's eyes narrowed. "You would not!"

Merry jutted his chin out. "Try me!"

How dare he use her secret against her? She glared at him with a storm in her eyes. "This might be a joke to you, but it's not to me! You can't go to my house, ever!"

"Okay. Fine. I won't go there, then. But in exchange, you have to forget what I said earlier about your family. Let's go play!"

Merry grinned, looking at her expectantly. Her jaw literally dropped at his quick change of tone, but she was not in the mood to play any longer. In fact, she didn't even know if she could still trust him.

Pippin rolled his eyes. How could his cousin be so dimwitted? Pippin spoke impatiently from below. "Merry is trying to say that he's sorry, and he's sorry _again_ for making you angry all over _again_ instead of making it better!"

"Wha..!" Merry exclaimed. "I am not! Pippin, don't put words in my mouth!"

Merry and Pippin began to bicker back and forth. Allie eyed them and scratched her cheek, feeling her anger lift a little. She knew they would never go to her house on purpose just to make her life difficult. She happened to look up then and noticed that the sun was lower in the sky than she had anticipated. Had she lost track of time?

Allie's face turned white as she fumbled past Merry and climbed down. Once on the ground, she sprinted away among the trees without further ado, leaving Merry and Pippin behind. The boys froze in their bickering before exchanging a confused glance and then they ran after her.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?" Pippin screamed to Merry while they ran. "Just say that you are sorry and get it over with. It's one small word, and I know you mean it, too."

Merry sighed. "Just... shut up and run, Pip. Why is she so fast?"

* * *

Frodo paced up and down under the tree of the headland, while muttering under his breath. He hadn't seen the lass again, but he just knew she had to be inside that house. Maybe after he surprised her in the woods, she locked herself up again, but Frodo couldn't for the life of him figure out why she was doing this. He saw the father leave around noon every day, and then all was quiet until Robin came home in the afternoon. Once, he tried spying into the window, but the inside was dark and he saw no movement.

Merry and Pippin looked at him strangely when he talked about his seemingly fruitless mission, and he was getting more and more frustrated with their attitude. Sometimes, he got the impression they knew something he didn't, especially when Merry flashed that lopsided smile of his! But he attributed that to him thinking he was still seeing a specter.

Well, she was no specter! And today was the day he would prove it. He still held a card in his hand that he only planned to play as last resort when spying on the house failed. But now, it was time. His decision made, Frodo sprinted down the headland and walked right into Bucklebury.

The market was busiest at this time of day. Throngs of hobbits traveled down the cobble-paved road; some would stop at a stand to talk to a friend or to get on with the latest gossip. Few of them actually bought anything, because they all had their own crops growing on their own land or in their own front yards. The food at the market was more for travelers from other regions and for people who settled down temporarily in the village for one reason or another. It was also for the working hobbits like the postman or the Shiriff, who had to patrol across the Shire all year long.

Frodo squeezed his way among the adults, the animals and the carts, and then looked around until he spotted a stand sporting a worn-out green banner with apples drawn on it. The banner flapped a little in the wind as Frodo made his way toward it. There was another stand next to it filled with oranges. As Frodo passed, he crashed a little into another hobbit.

"Sorry!" he muttered, looking back.

Just as he did, an orange slipped out from the other hobbit's shirt and rolled to the ground. The other hobbit's eyes widened and he broke into a run before Frodo had time to yell. He soon disappeared into the crowd, with no one noticing his mischief at all. Sighing, Frodo picked up the orange and put it back on the shelf. When he turned around, his eyes met those of Robin, who was staring from the stand next door, a box of apples in his arms. He had witnessed the whole scene.

Robin looked away and put down the box he was carrying, before starting to stack the apples on the shelf. A lady came and started fumbling with the apples. She took one and bit into it.

"Pretty sweet for this time of year," she said. "Give me a pound of that, will you?"

Robin nodded wordlessly and took out a bag from under the shelf to put it on the scale, and subsequently started filling it with apples. The lady chewed off another large chunk from the apple, before putting it down to grab the bag. At the last second, Robin held it back.

"You have to pay for that too," he said, looking at the half-eaten apple sitting precariously on the corner of the shelf.

The lady's brown eyes darted there. "Can you not give it to me for free? Take it as sampling."

"You have to pay for it. Not my rules," Robin replied, glancing back at his employer, an old hobbit by the name of Mungo Boffin, who was conversing with another hobbit. The old Boffin was known for being both accurate and cheap.

The lady realized that as well and grumbled, but nevertheless reached into her pocket and added another silver coin to Robin's outstretched hand. She glared hard at Robin, as though it was somehow his fault, before taking her bag of apples and the half-eaten one, and trudging away.

Robin went back to stacking apples, when he sensed someone watching him. Looking up, he saw the dark-haired boy still standing there at the side of the road, eyeing his every movement. The two boys stared each other down again, challenging the other to look away first. It was Robin who broke eye contact, but not because he wanted to. The Old Boffin had placed a wrinkled hand on his shoulder and turned him around to face him.

"It's lunch time boy. Go take a breather."

Robin gave a brief nod and went to sit on a box at the side of the stand.

"You're not eating?"

Robin looked up and sighed when he realized whom it was. He'd seen this lad around before. He was with the other two who kept lingering around their house, looking all curious. They sometimes tried to talk to him or catch his attention every time he left for the market in the morning. Robin had never responded to their ridiculous attempts, and after some time, they got the message and gave up. They didn't even come around the house anymore. Robin was going to give the same treatment to this lad, and to every other lad who disturbed him in the future.

At first, he didn't dare talk to them because it scared him that his father would find out and punish him, but now he just hated them. He'd seen them running around, playing with other kids and planning mischief, all without a care in the world. He envied how easily they laughed, and how easily they cried over the smallest things. All of them, they had no idea what nightmare he was living in, and they tried to make it worse by displaying such senseless and unhealthy curiosity instead of leaving him alone.

Frodo scowled a little at the unfriendly expression that fell over the other boy's face. He tried to start up more small talk, but Robin obstinately looked at anything but him. It made him feel like he didn't exist. But Frodo didn't let that deter him.

"Why are you working here in the summer? It really is no fun. Do you have any friends here?"

At this, Robin's eyes darted to his like lightning, blazing with anger. But still, he bit his lips and said nothing. Frodo hadn't meant to make him upset, but anger was better than indifference.

"I suppose you don't have any then. Friends, I mean," he taunted, arching an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be surprised, because you're not friendly at all."

"What do you want?" Robin finally spat, standing up.

Frodo felt satisfaction settle in his stomach. "So you _do_ speak."

Robin realized what the other was doing, and had to use everything he had to swallow back his anger. "You make me sick," he grumbled low in his throat.

Frodo's smile fell. "What did you just say?"

Robin met those incredulous blue eyes defiantly. "You heard me. Why are you all so nosy? You really must have nothing better to do than to bother other folk!" Robin took a step forward. "You think I haven't noticed how you and your friends linger around my house? We are not some animals you can just watch out of curiosity!"

Frodo realized he was talking about Merry and Pippin too. "We were not…!" He flared up in anger. _That is just unfair!_ "We were just trying to be friends with you, but you never gave us the chance!"

"Well, I don't need friends like you!" Robin spat. "You are so stupid and immature and nosy, that I feel sick just being seen with you! Is that how your parents taught you?" The dark-haired boy suddenly lifted his hand up in a fist, breathing hard and fast, his face red with anger. Robin got in his face and pressed his chest against his. "What? Are you going to hit me? Go ahead then! Go ahead! I'll hit you back twice as hard!"

Frodo could stand any insult placed upon him, but he could not forgive anyone badmouthing his parents.

"Stop right this instant!" came the voice of the old Boffin, who was limping in their direction as fast as he could. Other hobbits also began to notice what was going on, and stopped to look.

Robin and Frodo kept their eyes on each other, neither of them backing down, until Boffin finally reached them and lowered Frodo's still raised fist. "No fighting kids! Don't you know where you are?"

Frodo pulled his hand back from the old hobbit's grasp. "He started it!" he said, pointing to Robin.

Robin backed off by a few steps and eyed Boffin nervously. He didn't dare think what would happen if his father got wind of this. He'd been stupid to start the fight. He shouldn't have lost control like that.

"He's right," he mumbled, "I said a few things that I shouldn't have. Please, just punish me and let me get back to work. I swear it won't happen again."

His black eyes were pleading with Boffin. The old hobbit grumbled and ran a hand slowly through his gray beard. Frodo was looking at Robin in disbelief, appalled at the boy's sudden change of temperament. A crowd of curious hobbits was rapidly forming around them, and a wave of low whispers was running through them. Robin tried to make himself as small as possible so no one would say "That's that new Brandybuck boy. What's his father's name? Marroc, isn't it?"

"There is nothing to see here! Go back to what you were doing!" Boffin shouted impatiently to the crowd, driving them away with both hands. Disappointed, the hobbits began to circulate again.

Boffin returned his attention to Robin and Frodo. "You are damn right I'm going to punish you. Both of you!"

"But sir!" Frodo protested right away.

"Little Frodo Baggins, right? I know all about you," Boffin snarled. "Regardless of what happened, it was wrong of you to raise your fist. Don't you ever do that again, no matter the circumstance, or I swear that I'll get wind of it and I won't let it go so easily next time."

Frodo's heart was beating hard at the injustice of it all. He wanted to say that he might have made a fist with his hand, but he never intended to use it, but he kept his mouth shut. He was scared of the dark glare behind Boffin's wrinkled eyes. To them both, he said, "Now get in that cabin and start scrubbing the floor. Until not a speck of dirt remains!"

Robin nodded at once, looking relieved, and headed towards a small wooden cabin a few feet behind the stand, where Boffin stored firewood, old account books and a cart.

"Please sir," Frodo begged, not wanting to share the same room as Robin. "Can't I just swear that I won't do it again and you let me go? Please?"

Boffin drew Frodo close in a movement frighteningly fast for his age. "You go in there right this instant or your parents will hear all about this!"

Scared at that perspective, Frodo quickly followed Robin. When he got inside the cabin, he saw that Robin had already gotten started with a broom taller than he was. Frodo glared holes at the other boy's back, so angry he could hardly breathe. Finally, he dragged his feet to grab another broom in the corner, and scrunched up his nose at the cobwebs under his hands. He started to sweep and a cloud of dust quickly formed around him, making him cough. Choking for air, Frodo struggled with the old rusted latches of the window, and finally managed to push it open. He gulped fresh air greedily and the burning sensation left his lungs. Frodo watched Robin continue sweeping his end, unfazed by everything Frodo did. It was as if he were alone.

"You're such a suck-up to adults," Frodo couldn't help saying. "You act all tough with me, but as soon as the old Boffin showed up, you got so wimpy. You're a coward!"

Robin paid him no mind. In a huff, Frodo threw his broomstick on the floor and went to sit outside. A moment later, he got a knock on the head. Turning, he saw Robin standing there handing him his broom. "You better do your part of the work, or I'll tell the old Boffin."

Frodo ground his teeth, but he knew he would be screwed if Robin did as he said. Snatching the broom from the other boy's hand, he begrudgingly went back inside. Frodo decided he really hated Robin. He hated anyone who didn't play fair by going to the adults all the time.

A few minutes later, Robin finished sweeping and he left the cabin with an empty bucket. The alone time allowed Frodo to compose his thoughts. Looking around, he saw dust everywhere and decided he should use this time wisely since they would be in this together for however many hours it would take to clean the whole place up.

When Robin came up with a bucket full of water, they soaked their rags and started cleaning the shelves and the old cart stationed at the corner, near the window. Frodo watched Robin work with a careful eye, pondering. He knew Robin wouldn't answer any of his questions, so it was time to go beyond the verbal.

When Robin went to the bucket, Frodo stepped in front of him. Robin tried to go around him, but Frodo blocked his path again. It was working. Robin was beginning to lose his calm, evidenced in the way his jaw was set. He pushed Frodo out of his way, and bent once again to soak his rag in the water. Frodo then kicked the bucket, spilling the contents on to the floor, letting it splash over their legs. He expected an outburst from Robin, but Robin's reaction still caught him off guard.

When Robin got water on his pants, he threw down his rag on the floor and lashed out towards Frodo. In a matter of seconds, he had Frodo pinned against the wall of the cabin, his forearm against Frodo's throat, leaving the boy wide-eyed and in shock. "Why do you keep bothering me, huh? Are you that bored? If you're picking a fight, you came to the wrong person!"

Frodo glanced toward the door, but Robin pinned him back even harder. "No one's coming. No old Boffin to save you now. Even if you scream, I doubt he'll hear in the noisy market."

His black eyes gleamed dangerously, but Frodo detected a trace of fear behind all his bravado. Robin really was scared the old Boffin might hear if Frodo screamed, but he had no intention whatsoever of screaming. It was time to play his card. He just hoped with all his heart that it would work. Otherwise, Robin might really beat him to a pulp.

"I came…because of her," Frodo managed to get the words out despite the pressure on his throat.

Robin was too angry to make out the meaning behind his words. "I don't care who asked you to come, or why, but if you appear in front of me again, I swear I'll kill you!"

Frodo shook his head, trying to push Robin back. "You don't understand," he croaked. "The lass...you live with."

Robin froze and his eyes narrowed. "Who? What lass?"

Frodo took advantage of this and lowered Robin's arm away from his throat. His voice was steady when he looked Robin in the eye and said, "The lass you're hiding in your house."

Robin looked as if someone punched him in the gut. His hold slackened, and he backed away with a horror-stricken face. Frodo didn't expect such an extreme reaction, but was glad when he could breathe normally again.

"You...you're wrong," Robin stuttered, looking around him anxiously, as though afraid someone else might have heard.

But Frodo knew he was lying, And Robin knew it too. So there really was a girl! Frodo smiled inwardly. Just wait until he could tell Merry!

Robin realized his reaction only served to confirm Frodo's doubts and he began wringing his hands nervously. "How did you know?" he asked, his voice merely above a whisper.

This would have been the perfect time to take revenge for everything, if Frodo was the vengeful type. But he wasn't. He was only curious now. "I saw her. Twice. Why are you hiding her?"

Robin wet his lips, his eyes darting around again. "Who else knows about this? Your friends or just you?"

"Just me," Frodo answered automatically, before realizing what a bad idea that was and adding, "but some others suspect it, too. So, why are you hiding her?"

Robin wrung his hands even harder, seemingly on the verge of a mental breakdown. Frodo's frown disappeared as a feeling of uncertainty overwhelmed him. He got near the other boy, but the latter backed off against the wall and sank down on his knees, looking so miserable that last traces of Frodo's anger evaporated.

He crouched down in front of Robin. "Just tell me. I promise I won't tell anyone else. None of the adults." It seemed like the right thing to say, because Robin looked up, scrutinizing Frodo's face behind his tears. He wiped them dry furiously with the back of his hand.

"You have to promise!"

"I promise," Frodo replied immediately.

Robin took a deep breath, and managed to calm down somehow. There was no sense in hiding the truth any longer. If he did, the other boy would never leave him alone.

"She's my sister," he finally revealed.

Frodo could only stare. "So why are you hiding her?"

"Because our father doesn't want her to go out and be seen by people. In fact, he doesn't want me talking to other people, either. That's why we can't be friends."

"All because of your Dad? But why?"

"He's scared we might tell people how he is with us."

"How he is with you?" Frodo echoed with a frown.

Robin bit his lip. He couldn't say that he beat his sister. He just couldn't. "He's very controlling. He's really into privacy, and he doesn't like us talking about our family. And he knows people are always curious about family stuff here, and that us kids talk too easily. That's why."

Frodo still didn't really understand, but he nodded as if he did. "But _you_ can go out. So why can't your sister?"

Robin sighed. "Because of what happened back in Bree. Something bad happened, which forced us to move away. Father said it's because of something Allie did, but I don't believe it for a second."

"Her name is Allie?"

"Yes." As an afterthought, he added, "And I'm Robin."

Frodo smiled. "I'm Frodo."

There was a moment of awkward silence in which Robin stared at the ground, and Frodo stared at him, feeling as though the introduction made them somewhat friends.

"So what happened in Bree?" Frodo probed, not about to give up his resolution to get answers.

Robin scowled at the memory of it. "I don't know if I should tell. Father would…he'd be so mad."

"It's all between us. Nothing will leave this room. You can trust me."

Robin frowned. "No, I really can't, but if I don't tell you, you'll bother me to no end, won't you?"

Frodo flashed him a toothy grin. "You're a fast learner!"

Robin glared at him, but grew serious again. "She caused some trouble back in Bree, according to father. Something bad happened at the inn, maybe it was stealing or something. I'm not really sure. But after that people started looking at us all like we were criminals, and father couldn't stand it any longer, so we moved here. And now father doesn't want her to go out and cause the same kind of trouble here, and he also doesn't want her to go around telling other people what happened in Bree, because then the people here might start looking at my father all weird again, just like back home."

Frodo sensed there was something Robin wasn't telling him. "But what did she do exactly?"

Robin shrugged. "I'm not really sure. Father knows because he was at the inn when it happened. But he gets so angry whenever he remembers it. He says it's something unspeakable, but I don't believe him! Allie could never do something that horrible, whatever it may be. In fact, I'm not even sure she remembers it herself. When they brought her home, she was unconscious."

Frodo nodded, thoughtful. There was a silence between the two boys, which Robin broke by asking, "How did you know about my sister anyway?"

Without thinking, he said, "I saw her outside your house one time, and then in the woods the second time."

Robin's eyes grew wide. "In the woods? She's been going out? I told her to stay put! This is what happens when she doesn't listen!" He looked at Frodo with fleeting anger, before it gave way to resignation. It was too late. Frodo knew all about it now. "Please don't tell anyone else," he pleaded.

Although disappointed at not being able to prove to Merry that the girl existed, and win his bet, Frodo nodded. He was a man of his word, and keeping a promise was more important.

The boys worked in silence after the exchange, cleaning up the whole place. Then, they went to see Boffin. The old hobbit inspected the cabin with attention, and finally gave them permission to leave, with a warning that if he ever caught them fighting again, their parents would hear all about it.

Frodo now understood Robin's earlier reaction. He didn't want his Dad to find out about the fight. When Robin headed back home, Frodo followed him automatically, watching the other boy's back and realizing he didn't hate him anymore. He wanted them to be friends. And he wanted to help him.

Robin threw a glance over his shoulder. "Why are you _still_ following me?"

"Can we be friends?"

"No, I told you I can't."

"I already know your secret. Doesn't that mean we _are_ friends?"

Robin threw him a puzzled look. He hadn't thought of that.

"We can be friends in secret," Frodo said. "No one would need to know. I can be real discreet if I want. I won't ever go bother you at the market again. We can play after you finish working."

Robin was tempted. Frodo would be his first friend here. It could be great. "I don't know. I mean, Allie would probably be waiting for me…" Then he remembered that she had been sneaking out and growled inwardly. He would need to have a word with her on that. He was already later than usual, but when he opened the door and peered inside, he saw the house was empty.

"Allie?" he called, but no one replied.

"She's not home?" Frodo asked, peering over Robin's shoulder into the empty house. He couldn't help noticing the gloomy lightning inside, the simple setting and the lack of basic furniture, but at least the place was tidy and clean.

Robin noticed Frodo prying, and shut the door behind him with a dark face. Frodo lowered his eyes sheepishly in a feign sense of propriety, but he was disappointed. He was hoping to get a better glimpse of the girl. He saw her twice before and yet he couldn't remember at all what she looked like, except that she had fair hair. He noticed both Robin and his dad had dark hair, so she must resemble their mother more. Frodo was burning to know whether they were hiding their mother as well, but even _he_ knew there were some things he'd better not mention.

Robin was scanning the surrounding hills and the grassy field with a storm brewing in his eyes. How could she be so careless? Who else apart from Frodo had seen her now? As if to confirm his fears, he spotted her emerging from the field at a brisk pace. He watched her freeze when she saw him standing in front of the house. She yelled behind her in warning, but it was too late. Two other hobbits tumbled out of the field in her wake.

"Allie!" Robin shouted, dismayed, his eyes going from her to the other two boys.

"Robin!" Allie cried out in alarm.

Pippin's eyes widened as he pointed a finger in front of him and croaked Frodo's name just as he stepped forward.

Incredulity filled Frodo's gaze. "Merry? Pippin!"

All five hobbits looked at each other with the same panicked expression on their faces.


	6. Summer Days

**Summer Days**

Allie was the first one to snap out of it. She ran towards her brother and desperately clung to his clothes. "I can explain this. Please. Don't be mad?"

Robin's first reflex was to push her away and to chastise her for the danger she was putting both of them in. Was she really looking for a beating from father? He couldn't bear to watch any more of it.

"Please!" Allie pleaded again, her voice small, "I just couldn't… I couldn't stay locked up inside any longer. And they…" she signaled to Merry and Pippin, who still stood a fair distance way, looking dumbstruck, "they promised not to tell anybody, and they have been true to their word!"

Robin glared at the two hobbits in question, who hurried to lower their eyes.

"How long has this been going on?"

"A… a couple of weeks? Not long."

"A couple of weeks?" Robin repeated, exasperated. "Are you sure no one else has seen you?"

"I'm sure! I have been playing in the countryside. I haven't been in town, so no one could have seen me. Believe me."

She decided to keep quiet about her trips into town when it was raining. She was positive that no one had recognized her, so there was no need to anger her brother further by telling him of those trips.

"It's all right," Frodo finally found his voice and approached Robin from behind. "If someone else has seen her, it would have been all over town by now. News spread fast in the Shire."

Allie's eyes darted towards him at lightning speed at the sound of his voice. For the first time, she realized clearly who he was. Fear surged in her for a second as she wondered why he was here with her brother.

As Robin turned to look at Frodo hesitantly, Allie understood that they knew each other. She put two and two together, and her fear was replaced by anger.

"What is _he_ doing here?" she demanded Robin furiously.

Robin, caught off guard by the change in her tone, looked at Frodo uneasily. "He… it's a long story. But he learned about you!" He finished accusingly, his black eyes clearly telling her that if she hadn't behaved so irrationally, she wouldn't have been caught by him, and none of this would have happened.

Allie bit her lip so hard that a metallic taste invaded her mouth. "He _told_ you about me?"

Merry and Pippin had caught up with her now, and upon hearing her last words, Merry whipped his head towards Frodo.

"You went to her _brother_?"

Frodo looked at Merry defensively. "Are you saying I should not have? You lads knew all along that she existed, and you knew that I was looking for her, but still you did not tell me!"

"We swore not to tell!" Pippin cut in. "She told us not to, so we didn't! We don't break promises!"

"Do you think I would have gone around telling other folk about it if you had told me to keep it a secret?" Frodo bristled, suddenly feeling frustrated. "You should have said something! You knew I would find out sooner or later!"

"I saw you spying on me every day!" Allie interrupted their cutting conversation with cutting words of her own. "Why could you not have left me alone?"

"He sure does spying well, that much cannot be denied," Robin muttered under his breath.

Frodo stared hard at the hobbit girl, taking in her dirty boys' clothes, her messy and unruly hair sullied with dirt and leaves, her defensive posture, and blazing grey eyes. To him, she looked wild, almost as though living away from civilization.

Allie saw his expression, which she interpreted as contempt, and glared back at him with open animosity.

"Will you not be able to play anymore?" Pippin suddenly asked, his voice small and thick, seemingly on the verge of tears.

He remembered the rules of the game; he remembered that the game would end if they were found out.

"You are not to do this any longer!" Robin replied in Allie's place.

Allie seemed to crumble at those words, and suddenly she was just a young lass again, clinging onto her big brother's shirt as her cheeks flashed red. "Please! We just have to be more careful. We just have to keep this from father. He won't ever find out if we are careful."

Merry nodded. "I swear we will not say a thing."

"It will be fine as long as he doesn't find out, won't it?" Pippin added.

Robin seemed uncertain.

"I vouch for everyone here that they will keep this a secret!" Merry declared seriously. "Right, Pippin?"

Pippin nodded.

"Right, Frodo?"

Allie looked at him sullenly, waiting for his rejection, but was surprised when he mumbled: "Of course I would not say a thing. What do you take me for?"

Frodo met her eyes again begrudgingly, and she gazed back at him carefully, for some reason not feeling convinced that she could trust his words.

However, everyone else had relaxed visibly.

"So, what happens now?" Merry asked.

Robin sighed, and put a comforting hand on Allie's shoulder. "Now we all go back to our respective homes. It is enough trouble for one day. We have made such noise that I'm surprised the neighbors have not poked their heads out of their windows already."

"Remember what I have told you earlier?" Frodo said to Robin. "Now that we are in this together, we might as well be friends and play. After you finish your work at the market, that is."

Robin felt his heart pounding at the possibility, but he really didn't know. So many things could go wrong. Allie, though, perked up a little at that perspective. "Yes, Robin! Father returns late from the Inn, so we would have the whole evening to play! No one will see us in the dark."

She missed the days when her brother and she played together in Bree. Those days seemed so far away now, but presently she could feel them again on the tip of her fingers, like a promise. Robin, however, was still frowning.

"We will be extra careful," she insisted, bearing her eyes into his, forcing him to pay attention to every word she was uttering, "we will tidy up the house so that he does not suspect anything, and we will get the food ready too. Everything will be like before."

But Robin knew that if he decided to give in and do this, when their father found out, and he was bound to find out someday, his wrath would befall the both of them. Their father had never really beaten him before, but he was so scared of that ever happening one day that he hesitated again. It made him sick to admit it, but when he saw the bruises and red marks on his sister's skin, sometimes he was relieved that it wasn't him instead.

Frodo was listening to her words, and a sense of apprehension was growing in the pit of his stomach. Cleaning? Cooking? He didn't need to do any of those things because his parents always took care of them. But did Robin and Allie have to do it instead of their father? That seemed rather bizarre. It was like they were living a grownup's life.

He saw that Merry and Pippin were following the exchange, but they didn't seem to have seized the weirdness of it all. Was Frodo overthinking it?

Robin looked around at the expectant faces of Merry and Pippin, and saw Frodo give him an encouraging smile, and he closed his eyes for a moment, before making up his mind.

"All right," he finally conceded, "all right."

Allie's face brightened up as she let out a cry of joy and hugged her brother. "Thank you, Robin! I knew you could come around!"

She then turned towards Merry and Pippin, and saw that they were as delighted as she felt. They started jumping together in a circle, hand in hand. Frodo approached Robin, and saw that he was looking at his sister with something akin to tenderness in his dark eyes. He probably thought this was the least he could do for her.

"You will not regret being friends," he told Robin comfortingly. "Buckland is a place full of interesting things to do and to see. I like to take long walks sometimes, so I know this land like the back of my hand."

Robin turned around and the corners of his lips rose in a true smile for the first time in a long time.

On the way back home that evening, Merry, Frodo and Pippin walked alongside each other on the slope up Buck Hill. They were all discussing the events of the day animatedly.

"I really thought it was the end!" Merry exclaimed, "when I saw her brother, I thought everything was ruined."

Pippin agreed. "Frodo! I didn't think for a second that you would go to her brother! What happened?"

Frodo told them the general headlines of what had transpired with Robin that afternoon, but deep inside he was still upset at his two younger friends.

"How could you do this to me?" he let out reproachfully as soon as he'd finished his tale. "You must have had a good laugh at me behind my back."

Merry and Pippin couldn't help chuckling at this, and Frodo pressed his lips together sullenly. Merry clapped a hand over his shoulder. "Forgive us, Frodo, but we had made a promise. Do you know something though? We might have been friends with Allie first, but you became friends with Robin first, so I'd like to think that we are even."

Pippin, however, was frowning. "I don't like Robin that much. He was scary at first when he got mad."

Frodo thought back to the moment that Robin had pinned him against the wall, and had to admit that the boy did have a violent side to him.

"It's probably because he's scared of their father, though," Frodo said in his defense. "And besides, to me, that lass is way scarier. Is she always like that?"

Merry thought about it. "I have seen her mad just moments before, but I have never seen her that mad." He sighed and then shrugged. "She must have really hated being spied on. She was always very careful when going back to her smial because she knew you were keeping watch. I'm sorry to say this, Frodo, but it is unlikely that she will want to be friends with you now."

Pippin waved his hand in front of him solemnly. "I don't think so, Merry. When she stops being mad, she will come around. Frodo is a good friend!"

"I'm glad at least someone is on my side today!" Frodo exclaimed.

Pippin beamed at him widely. "Come play with us tomorrow!"

Frodo thought back to the image of Allie staring at him with wild anger. Nobody had ever showed him such open dislike before, and it had upset him. He did not want to have anything to do with her anymore.

So, as politely as he could, he declined Pippin's invitation.

A few days later, it was time for Paladin, Pearl and Pippin to go back home to Tuckborough. It was the first week of September, and school would be starting soon.

Merry was holding onto Pippin, crying his eyes out, while Pippin was doing the same. Frodo was standing to the side, looking uneasy, as his parents Drogo and Primula conversed with Paladin and Pearl.

"I don't want to go, Dad! I don't want to go," Pippin sobbed in Merry's arms.

"Come on lad," Paladin spoke reassuringly and comfortingly, patting Pippin's hair. "Merry's parents already said they would be delighted to have our whole family over for Yule. So you would be seeing Merry soon."

Pippin raised his head a little and wiped at his tears and snot with the back of his hand. "Really? We are coming here for Yule?"

"I would not lie to you, son."

"Don't go Pip! Don't go! I can't wait till Yule to see you again!" Merry wailed as he kept clinging onto Pippin.

"Come on Merry, that is enough," Esmeralda said as she gently pulled Merry away from his friend. "They have a long way to go. It is time they get on the road."

Merry let go, and Pippin went to hug Frodo instead, crying again. "We will see each other soon, Pip." Frodo comforted him, tapping his back, while feeling a peak of amusement at the whole scene because every summer it was the same.

Merry, cheeks flushed and eyes red, swallowed back his tears, and stared at the ground, sniffing. Paladin took Pippin into his arms and stepped onto the cart, but not before shaking Saradoc's hand firmly. The ponies were pawing the ground, looking fresh and impatient to go. Pearl and Esmeralda shared a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then Pearl bent down to ruffle Merry's hair tenderly. "Goodbye, Merry! Take good care of yourself."

And to Esmeralda she said: "Don't forget to use the ointment I told you about. It is good for the skin."

And then the three members of the Took family were on their way, with the sound of the ponies' hooves resounding thickly against the dirt battered road down Buck Hill.

Paladin wiped Pippin's tear stricken face clean with his handkerchief, and Pippin pouted as he leaned against the window of the cart, with his arms outside, staring blankly at the scenery as it passed by slowly.

Suddenly, something golden flashed in the bushes, and Pippin stared. Then, he saw Allie's head emerging from the leaves. She was grinning as she disappeared behind the bushes again.

Pippin sat up straighter as his heart pounded excitedly. He wondered what she was up to.

A few meters before the bushes were about to come to an end, Allie's upper body emerged again, and he saw that she was holding a rock in her right hand. She eyed Pippin meaningfully, and then threw the rock at him. Pippin's arm reached out to grab it in midair; he almost lost it for a second, but then he managed to safely draw it back against his chest.

Allie was waving at him now, and Pippin waved back enthusiastically, flashing a bright smile.

"Who are you waving to, son?" Paladin asked from beside him before peering outside above his shoulder.

However, Allie had ducked back behind the cover of the bushes, and Paladin saw no one.

"Just someone I know," Pippin said vaguely as he turned his back to his father.

He peered at the rock he was holding in his hand, and saw a round smiley face with spiky hair carved on it. He frowned. Was that supposed to be him? He was sure he was more handsome than that! And his hair wasn't spiky! Was it? He touched a hand to his hair, flattening them out unconsciously.

After Pippin left, Merry felt downright miserable for the rest of day, not even responding to Berilac's attempts at annoying him by tapping against his window obnoxiously with little pebbles. Finally, bored, Berilac gave up and went to the kitchen to see if there was any strawberry with cream left.

Frodo also tried to force the door of Merry's room open, without much success, and then was forced to leave when Merry yelled at him to let him mourn in peace. Frodo rolled his eyes; it was not like Pippin had died. It was really the same thing every summer, so he wasn't worried one bit. Merry would go back to his usual self the next day.

The weather was nice that afternoon; the skies were cloudy, and a warm breeze was blowing gently over the land and between the trees. School would be starting in two days, so Frodo decided to make the most out of the remaining of his summer. He wandered aimlessly for a while, playing a game by himself where he could only step on patches of grass without flowers growing on them. He thus skipped across fields, bypassing Bucklebury village and several acres of pasture.

When he raised his eyes from the ground, he found himself in the little woods beyond the grass field where he had surprised Allie the other day. He looked around suddenly, wondering whether she would be nearby.

Now that her brother was covering for her as well, she mustn't have wasted time. She was probably out there somewhere. And then he shrugged; it was none of his business. She was Merry and Pippin's friend, not his.

It quite shocked him, actually, that Merry would be playing with a lass. He remembered how, when they were younger, Merry always used to make fun of him for playing with his neighbors' daughter. He had forgotten her name, and remembered her face only vaguely. Her family had moved out of Buckland a few years ago.

On that day, the lass had been in the middle of making a dress for her doll using the flowers in the garden. She had knitted their stems together to form a long rope made of flowers, and she had asked him to help her hold up one extremity as she rolled her doll in the flowers from the other extremity. Merry had chosen that exact moment to come visit.

Frodo still remembered the embarrassment he got from Merry that day. "Frodo, are you having fun playing house?" Merry had shouted from above the fence. Frodo had dropped the flowers then and had gone chasing after his annoying friend while yelling that he wasn't.

Frodo sighed at the memory. Merry always used to look down on girls and their make-believe games in which they pretended they were grownups who had tea together while chatting about nauseating stuff (Merry's words), or they would believe their dolls were alive and they would cradle them like adults cradled babies. Merry didn't understand that, and he couldn't fathom how they could keep at it all day. He made fun of anyone who played with girls, and that was the only matter on which him and his closest cousin (and enemy) Berilac agreed on.

Frodo didn't see what was so bad about make-believe games. Sure, he wasn't thinking of having tea and pretending a doll was his baby, but he liked make-believe games about going on an adventure and beating up the bad guys, and coming home as a hero that everybody worshiped. In fact, he would sometimes play that game with Folco Boffin and Fredegar (or Fatty, like they all called him) Bolger, who lived in Budgeford, near the Brandywine Bridge. And now, maybe Robin could join them too!

In fact, he thought he'd better improve his swordsmanship for the next time he got to play Goblins with them. Now that school was starting, he would get to see them more often, and he was excited at that perspective. He broke a twig out of a bush growing nearby, and started swinging it in front of him like a sword, making whooshing sounds with his mouth as he fended off invisible enemies. They were running away now, trembling and screaming in front of Frodo, but Frodo wouldn't let them get away before the last one fell and he could bring the commander Goblin's head back home as a trophy! And so he ran at their pursuit, stabbing at the low branches and weeds blocking his path.

He reached a clearing in the middle of the woods, and pretended that the shadows dancing around his feet, caused by the swaying branches overhead, were malevolent spirits that the Goblins had conjured up in a last attempt to kill him. He tensed, on his guard, and looked around carefully, his stick in front of him.

Suddenly, he heard something, like a rustling in the leaves. Tightening his hold on his weapon, he quietly made his way to one side of the clearing, crouching low to avoid being seen.

There was a shrub in front of him, with its branches uncommonly spreading outwards. Beside it, there was someone. He crawled closer and looked again and recognized Allie. Keeping quiet, he curiously craned his neck to see what she was up to.

He realized soon that she was plucking the red berries from the shrub and eating them down voraciously, like the berries were the best thing she'd ever tasted. He remembered his parents telling him not to eat just anything that grew out in the woods because some things could make you sick. How could she be so careless? Did her father not tell her to be careful as well?

The whole side of the shrub closest to her had been plucked clean of berries, and she was now moving on to the other side. A ray of sun found its way among the branches and made her blond hair glimmer. Her hair color was definitely uncommon for a Brandybuck. In fact, it was rare to see such light hair anywhere the Shire.

Frodo stared at her hair for a bit more, but his sense of wonder disappeared when he realized that no matter what color it may be, it still looked as unruly and dirty as the first time he had gotten a good look at her. Even now, she was still wearing the same strapped pants and loose shirt that seemed too big for her. There were two bruises on her leg, probably from falling down.

There was a sudden creaking sound of leaves and she froze in her movements. Frodo froze as well, because he was not the one who had made the sound. Allie turned around and he saw that she had berry juice all over her mouth and cheeks. Her grey eyes scanned the woods, before they widened.

"Cat!" she called out softly.

A spotted white cat trotted towards her and rubbed its head against her legs. Allie crouched down to pet it and scratch it behind the ears.

"I haven't seen you for a while. Where have you been?"

She picked the cat up on her knees, and the cat meowed softly, before starting to lick the berry juice off her cheeks, making her laugh. "Stop that, it tickles!"

She presented a berry to it. "Do you want to eat this?" The cat sniffed it and then turned its head away contemptuously. Allie popped it into her mouth. "All right! Don't eat it then! You don't know what you are missing, silly!"

The feline twisted in her arms and then jumped back on the ground before rolling on its back with its paws in the air, looking at her with oval eyes. She sighed and started scratching its belly. Soon, a purring sound filled the air.

"You come to me just for this, don't you?" she spoke quietly as her fingers worked, "but I don't do anything for free, cat. You have to help me out too. I'm hungry. Maybe you can lead me to where there is some meat."

The cat had closed its eyes, ignoring her.

"I'm serious, Cat. You know those hobbits who keep having barbecues down the hill? Well, maybe you can go and steal some beef for me. Or even chicken. Chicken would be quite nice."

Frodo couldn't help smiling at the bizarre scene. She was definitely an odd one, but as she crouched there talking and playing with the cat, she looked just like any ordinary lass. Perhaps he didn't have a reason to be put off by her. She was Robin's sister, after all.

"There is no use asking a cat for that," he said as he stood up from behind the bushes. "Why don't you ask someone who can actually understand what you are saying?"

Allie startled and almost fell back. The cat was on its legs at once, alert and with fur on edge. Frodo had to stop and look at the uncanny spectacle in front of his eyes; girl and cat were both looking at him with the same glint in their eyes, like that of an animal ready to pounce. Just like that other day, he clearly saw a storm of alarm and mistrust in her eyes.

Upon recognizing Frodo, however, her features slowly turned expressionless. The cat also relaxed, and then swiftly disappeared among the bushes. Allie's eyes followed it and Frodo saw that she was tempted to do the same.

He asked: "Are you going to run away again?"

Allie slowly wiped away the berry juice on her mouth with the back of her hand. "No."

She turned and positioned herself sideways from him and started to pluck berries into the front pockets of her pants, while still keeping an eye on him. "Do you always spy on people like this and then try to scare them?" she said into the silence.

"I was not trying to scare you, and I was not spying on you on purpose. I was just passing by and I saw you."

Allie made a noncommittal sound upon seeing him gazing at her curiously. She didn't like this hobbit one bit. He wasn't like Merry and Pippin. He was more mature and seemed to see right through her sometimes with those blue eyes of his. She knew he spelled trouble, and trouble was the last thing she wanted.

"Are you sure those can be eaten?" he signaled to the berries, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Yes," she answered simply.

When she couldn't fill up her pockets anymore, she started to walk away.

"Don't follow me," she added upon seeing Frodo walking behind her.

"Why not? Are you going somewhere secret? Even if you are, I know all about this land. There's nowhere around here I don't know how to get to."

Allie wondered whether he was bluffing, and whether she should run away again to escape him, but decided against it and didn't say anything when he caught up with her and walked by her side.

"How do you know my brother?" she asked.

Frodo shrugged vaguely. "I saw him at the market and we talked."

If she was asking him that question, then her brother must not have gone into the details of what had transpired.

"Are you friends with my brother now?"

"I suppose so. Did he say that we were friends?"

Robin hadn't said anything, but that night, as she was talking about this new turn of events with him, she had not seen him so excited since they had moved here. She knew it was probably because he could play with someone again. She didn't get a good vibe from Frodo, but he would be better than no one at all.

"You should be friends with him," she said. "He'd like that."

"Really?"

Frodo was happy to hear that, but Allie was studying him so intensely after she spoke, that he felt his smile waning.

"Really," she replied slowly. "I think he can do better than you, but for now you will do."

Frodo stared at her agape. _What a mean brat!_

"Well, I think Merry can do better as well, but for now you will have to do too," he told her in counterattack.

Instead of getting angry, Allie quirked an eyebrow at him as though he had just told her the sky was purple.

"Does that make sense?" she retorted, "how can Merry do better? He already knows everyone here, and the fact that he prefers to play with me over everyone else, including you, means that I'm already the best."

Frodo was speechless as he worked his brain to come up with a reply to that.

In the meantime, they had reached the foot of an oak tree. It was the second tallest tree in the woods, after the pine trees, and its foliage of leaves was the densest and the greenest. To Frodo's astonishment, she climbed up swiftly onto the part of the tree where the thick trunk split off into three smaller segments, forming a fork. She had somehow managed to install a square wooden plank on the fork, so that there was a platform on the tree. A pouch was attached to one of the higher branches, and Allie put the berries inside.

Frodo saw her do that with an arched eyebrow. "Are you a squirrel? Why are you saving food?"

Allie looked down at him. "None of your business."

"Everyone knows Merry's taste in friends cannot be trusted. So, the fact that he considers you his friend is nothing to be proud of."

Allie marked a moment of confusion, before realizing he was trying to pick up the conversation from way earlier. Frodo realized that he should have kept his mouth shut at the same time as she burst out laughing. Her laughter was clear as it resonated in the trees around them. Frodo felt all the blood rush to his face and looked down morosely.

"It took you this long to think of a come back?" She said when she was done laughing at him.

Frodo could only fume at this. _Why, she is such an insolent little brat!_

"It's nonetheless true!"

"Merry has great taste in friends. You are the exception though."

"Wait until Merry sees the weird side of you; how you talk to animals and such. When he realizes that you are a crazy one, he will come to his senses."

Alliw frowned at that. Frodo saw and felt encouraged.

"In fact, you don't even know Merry that well. Do you know that he never plays with girls? He was probably simply bored, and soon enough he will get tired of all this and move on."

Frodo expected her to be crestfallen at this, but she simply smiled. "You are a liar. If Merry was playing with me because there was no one else, then he would have not played with me while Pippin was here."

Frodo knocked at his head internally; he had forgotten about Pippin. He leaned against the tree as he changed tactics. "I'm not a liar. You can ask Merry himself whether it's true or not that he never plays with girls. In any case, he has really missed the mark this time. I see you mean to ask why I am saying this. Well, first I want to ask you this: do you think you are being a good friend to him? Friends don't keep secrets from each other."

Her face closed off. "What do you mean?"

Frodo looked up at her. "There is something you are not telling us. What is the real reason that you cannot be seen by anyone? Is your father really that strict?"

Allie gripped the branch hard. She knew he would end up asking her about this. Maybe it was what he had intended all along. She was nervous again, but forced herself to take a deep breath and remain calm.

Then, she sat down on the platform with her legs crossed in front of her and feigned confusion. "What did you say? I can't hear you."

"I asked you to tell me your secret!" Frodo shouted firmly.

Allie put one hand behind her ear? "What? I still can't hear you."

Frodo realized that she was playing him and consternation filled his eyes. She saw his expression and hid a smile of victory.

"If you have something to say," she added, "say it to me up here. Talking to you like this really makes me understand how Big People see hobbits."

Frodo gritted his teeth. Was she challenging him? He couldn't remember the last time he was this annoyed with anyone.

He took a step back and eyed the tree. He had climbed some trees before, but this one was too tall. He had no idea how she had gotten up there so fast. As his eyes met her challenging gaze, he decided that he would do it, or at least die trying. There was no way he could let himself be humiliated by her in this fashion.

She still hadn't won, a part of his mind supplied helpfully. He only needed to climb up this tree to show her. However, the task at hand was harder that he had anticipated. The trunk was thick, and it hurt his hands while he tried to hold on to it to lift himself up. His feet also kept slipping.

As Allie watched him struggle at the base of the tree, grunting with effort and frustration, she wondered how she had ever been scared of him. She remembered the terror she had felt every time she saw a flock of dark hair; her mind had been seeing him everywhere, afraid that he would spring out from behind her again and catch her off guard. She had been afraid of his tenacity, of the way he looked in the storm that day as he stood outside her window.

But now that she was seeing him in broad daylight, he was just a lad, and a silly one at that. It was true that he asked uncomfortable questions, but he also got easily sidetracked.

Her fear of him got replaced with excitement at the prospect of making fun of him like this in the days to come. After all, she had to punish him for all those times in which she had been on edge every time she returned to her house.

Meanwhile, Frodo scratched his hand on a sharp edge of wood and fell on his back, breathing hard as sweat flowed down his forehead into his eyes.

"Are you giving up?" He heard her call out to him from above.

He lifted his head off the ground and saw her watching him with one foot on the branch and her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"You should just admit defeat. This is beyond your skills," she teased him.

Frodo's cheeks flashed red in humiliation as he stood back up on his feet. "This is not over," he said after one last glare, and then walked away.

Allie watched him leave, feeling kind of disappointed that he had run away for real.

"Silly! If you hadn't given up, I would have helped you!" she couldn't help shouting after him.

After that, Allie saw Merry briefly the day before school had to start, but Merry was too depressed to do anything serious, so they just hang out close to the River, throwing pebbles in. Allie tried to distract him by talking about other things, but the only tale that managed to captivate him and break the dark gloomy atmosphere was when she talked about what happened with Frodo in the woods the day before. By the end of the recount, Merry was clutching his stomach and rolling on the bank of the river, laughing so hard he scared away a couple of birds perched on a nearby tree. He would have rolled into the water had she not pulled him back.

"I wish I was there to see the whole thing! No wonder he had such a gloomy face last night!"

"What's his deal anyway?" she asked, frowning.

"He really hates to lose," Merry confided. "If you really want to annoy him, you have to make him admit defeat in what he knows he's good at."

She seemed dubious. "And what is he good at?"

"Believe it or not, he's usually good at having the last word."

She scoffed. So that was why he was reacting so strongly yesterday.

"Why?" Merry inquired, "Do you want to annoy him that badly?"

Allie threw him a look of complicity. "Maybe."

Merry could only smile. "I don't know why you hate him that much, but we all have our alliances and enemies here, and especially that one person you want to annoy the most at all costs, so I understand how you feel."

"I don't hate him. I just think it's funny. So, who is your enemy, Merry?"

"My cousin Berilac," the answer came immediately. "I can't stand that evil lad!"

"How is he evil?"

"He's my first cousin from my father's side. Since my father is the Master of Buckland, and his father is not, he's always been jealous of us. Ever since we were little, we were at war with each other."

Merry then told her what Pippin and he had done to Berilac while he was counting the sheep. By the end of the tale, Allie was clapping her hands delightedly. "That is too funny! You have to teach me your skills, Merry, so that I can use them on Frodo."

Merry inflated his chest, flattered and feeling important. "Aye, aye!"

At that moment, Allie's stomach grumbled. She covered it quickly, embarrassed.

"I'm hungry too!" Merry said, realizing he hadn't eaten much all day. "I can't wait for dinner tonight."

Allie's face fell. Well, she certainly had nothing to look forward to. She hadn't had a full meal in a few days now; her father was drinking even more than before these days because he had managed to find out where Robin was keeping his salary money, and he had taken it. Robin had been so furious last night when he had found out the money was gone, that he could have broken everything in their house if she hadn't restrained him.

Merry didn't notice a thing about her turbulent thoughts, and was now standing up. "Dinner is still a few hours away though. How about we go to the market and get an apple from your brother? I bet he could use the customers!"

Allie saw him ruffling his pockets, checking how much change he had, and she hurried to do the same, although she knew there was nothing to check in her own pocket. She then looked at the position of the sun in the day; evening was coming sooner now.

"My brother will probably be off work when we get there. But you can still get something else. Since I can't go into the market, I'll wait for you by the fold."

Merry nodded.

* * *

Robin was finishing up when he spotted Frodo lingering around the market, eating some meatballs. Frodo winked when he saw Robin looking at him, and pretended to look around at the stands. Robin shook his head reprovingly but couldn't help smiling when he turned his back to Frodo. When Boffin gave him permission to leave, he took his little black bag and made his way amidst the crowd, looking this way and that for Frodo, but the other boy was now nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, someone tapped him on the back and a second later Frodo was by his side as a meatball was being thrust in his face.

"Do you want one?" he heard Frodo ask, before he pushed the other hobbit's arm away.

"Careful with that thing. Do you want to poke my eye out?"

"Sorry! Well, it is too bad if you don't want it." Frodo was going to eat it when Robin snatched the stick out of his hands and engulfed the meatball in two seconds flat.

"I neber said I didn wannit" he replied with his mouth full. In fact, he was starving, and he knew there probably would not be much for dinner at home tonight either.

Frodo shrugged and let him chew. Everywhere around them the hobbits were preparing to close down; they were putting away their merchandise, their banners and counting their coins.

"School is starting tomorrow," Frodo said excitedly. "Finally something to do! I was getting so bored. Also, I will finally get to see Folco and Fatty Bolger tomorrow!"

"Must be nice," Robin muttered.

"Are you going to keep working here? Will you not go to school?" Frodo asked.

"I need to make money right now, that's what I need. I don't have time for school."

Frodo halted. "That's not right! All the kids go to school. Only grownups work."

"I am a grownup," Robin stated.

"No, you are not. You are my age, aren't you?"

For a moment, Robin looked sad, but then it was gone. "Age doesn't matter. I'm a grownup because I have to be."

Frodo had no idea what he meant by that, for it didn't make any sense to him, but Robin didn't look like he was joking, so Frodo swallowed back what he wanted to say. Presently, Robin had stopped near a stand selling hand-made elastic bands, pendants, bracelets and hair ornaments. His hand searched his pockets, feeling the few coins there.

Frodo approached to see what he was looking at; for a second he thought Robin wanted something for himself, but then it clicked.

"You are not actually considering buying one of those for your sister?" he asked, puzzled.

Robin twirled. "Why not?" And more hesitantly: "You think she wouldn't like it?"

Frodo rolled his eyes and scoffed. "She'd hate it. Is she even a girl?"

"Oy! You're talking about my sister here! And how would you know? You barely even know her."

Frodo thought back to the confrontation in the woods, and oh yes, he knew her all right.

"I know enough," he answered placidly, because he didn't want this to turn into a fight. "The point is… she'd probably be happier if you gave her a weapon."

Robin's eyes narrowed. "A… what?"

Frodo searched around and his eyes fell on a slingshot a few stands away. "Yes, something like that!" He pointed. Robin followed his finger and drew in an upsetting breath. "A slingshot? That's…" Then he sighed. The problem was that he did not have a hard time at all picturing her using one of those and enjoying it. He had to admit Frodo had a point.

"Hey, lads!"

They turned around and saw Merry making his way towards them.

"What are you doing here?" Frodo asked, then eyed the two packs of cookies he held in his arms. "Aunt Esmeralda will yell at you again if you eat all that before dinner."

"But I'm hungry!" Merry protested. "And it's not all for me. I got some for Allie too. She's waiting in the fields. Are you both coming?"

Robin shrugged and followed him, but Frodo was rapidly thinking of an excuse to shy away because he didn't think he could face her yet; Merry noticed and took him by the elbow to pull him along, smiling. Frodo realized with a tug to his heart and Allie had already told Merry everything. That evil little brat!

Allie was sitting with her back to the fence of the large fold of sheep. She waved when she saw Merry emerge, and she smiled widely upon seeing her brother. At the sight of Frodo though, her smile turned into a smirk, as the latter tried to keep his eyes to the ground. Allie took the bag of cookies from Merry's hands and tore it open eagerly. Then, without a word, she dove in, engulfing down the cookies three at a time.

"Hey, slow down." Robin said, patting her back when she chocked on it. He looked around at the other two, and then back to his sister. He knew how hungry she had been. He should have bought some food at the market today.

When she was more satiated, she dusted off the crumbs from the front of her shirt and finally took in the other three, who were now talking.

"You are not normal, Frodo!" Merry was saying. "How can you be happy that school is starting?"

"Because I will be seeing all my friends!"

"I can see mine just fine without homework being involved," he grumbled, spitting out the blade of grass he was chewing. "What are you going to do, Allie? All the kids will be going to school. Aren't you going to be bored?"

"Oh, don't worry about me, I have a lot to do!" she said as she lied down on the grass and shielded her eyes from the setting sun. "Besides, school won't last all day, will it? We will play in the evening."

"What do you have in mind, Allie?" Robin asked, "don't go around doing something dangerous. When all the kids are at school, you will stand out even more if you get noticed by the adults."

"You think I don't know that? I'll keep away from town, I promise."

"Probably off talking to cats again," Frodo mumbled.

Allie sat up straight and examined him with her head coked slightly to the side. Was he really going to go there? "And you Frodo, you better go practice your tree climbing."

Merry buried his growing hilarity with a fist inserted in his mouth. Frodo blushed and bit his lips. Robin was confused.

"Hey, Meriadoc!"

Four heads whipped in the direction of the voice. A hobbit boy with brown hair, sharing some striking features with Merry, was running towards them along the outskirt of the fold.

"It's Berilac!" Merry spluttered, displeased. "What does he want? Hey, where are you going?"

Robin had seized Allie's hand and was running off across the fields now. Frodo stood up too. "I don't want to get in between you and your cousin, Merry. Have fun!" And then he was following them too.

"Wasn't that Frodo?" Berilac said while he caught up with Merry, who was glaring holes into the back of the three retreating figures.

"What do you want, Berilac?"

"Who are the other two?" Berilac asked. "I didn't recognize them. And wasn't that a girl?"

"A girl?" Merry scoffed. "Please get your eyes checked. They are my friends, and therefore they hate you, so you don't need to concern yourself with them."

Merry was eyeing Berilac warily, looking at him leaning casually against the fence with a hand in his pocket. Berilac however was not at all interested anymore in the people who had left. He looked into the pen, at the sheep grazing the grass.

"So what do you want?" Merry asked haughtily. "If you thought I'd join you in sheep-gazing, you came to the wrong person."

"Actually, I wanted to give you a thank you gift." Berilac said, and Merry should have been cautious of the glint in his eye, but his curiosity had been stirred up.

"Whatever have I done to ever deserve a thank you from you?"

"Oh, plenty of things. But one of them in particular."

And before his words had died down, he had taken his hand out of his pocket. Before Merry had time to duck, something cold, viscous, gooey and green flew at him and landed on his face. Merry let out a high pitched squeal and flung his arms around, and to his face, trying to get the thing off. He grabbed something cold and _moving_, which gave him the shivers, and threw it quickly to the ground.

There was a gooey substance on his face, in his eyes and mouth, and he spat it out ferociously while he wiped at it with a pan of his shirt. When he opened his eyes at last, he saw two things simultaneously. The first one was Berilac running away and yelling : "Thank you for making me count fifty sheep twice, fool!" And the second thing was the ugliest and biggest toad he'd ever seen crawling on the ground at his feet.

Merry screamed.

* * *

_That's it for now. Reviews are welcome! :)_

**FreakyFantasy**_: _Thanks for the kind words! This is just beginning, so I hope you will stick around for the rest as well :D_  
_


	7. Stories from Bree

**Stories from Bree**

Merry was right. Once school started, Allie saw the tempo of her daily activities slow down considerably. The hobbits had to be at school until mid-afternoon, so before that, the surrounding fields were always eerily quiet.

The September weather was still warm, which inspired her to hang out by herself at the pond, sitting on the knotted rope and letting her toes graze the water every time she swung past the waters. She tried to teach herself how to swim again, but it was the hardest thing she had ever set her mind to do. Her body would simply not respond to her efforts, and she kept sinking no matter how ferociously she tore at the water with her arms and kicked with her legs.

When she grew tired of playing in the water and of climbing on the trees, she turned her interest to something new: exploring Buckland. As the days passed by, she would venture farther and farther from home before hurrying back.

She usually followed the road leaving from Bucklebury to the South. On both sides of the road were square and rectangular fields filled with crops; sometimes a farm could be seen erected at the edge of a field.

She darted along those fields, being careful not to step on anything growing, and marveled at the variety of fruits and vegetables available. It was the beginning of fall, and soon the crops would be ready for harvesting. On her journeys, she would pick one tomato here or one orange there to keep her stomach filled while she walked. She made sure none of the farmers saw her. None of them had dogs guarding their crops, unlike that Farmer Maggot person that Pippin had told her about.

As she went south, the road was on her left and the river on her right. Sometimes, a cart pulled by ponies would be traveling on the road, heading to Bucklebury from the South. When she peered through underbrush, she saw that they were carrying green leaves, like those her father used for his pipe.

Then, the smaller fields gave way to larger fields of sweet corn, wheat and serge. The plants grew so high that they went way beyond her head. It was hard walking through them, and she almost got lost in them more than once, before spotting the road again with relief.

And then she came to a village. It was equally big as Bucklebury, and equally crowded. In fact, it seemed that it was an exact replica of the place she lived in. She didn't dare go into the village itself, but she looked at it from the hills surrounding it. The heart of the village was also the marketplace, and there were the same holes dug up inside the sides of hills where hobbits lived.

The road stopped at that village, but she could still see green and yellow fields stretching beyond the habitations as far as the eye could see. She wondered if there were more villages beyond that point, or whether it would be only wilderness.

That day, half of the trip back home was made under the moonlight as she hurried home, running in the fields. She finally got home, out of breath, muscles aching, exhausted and starving, cheeks and clothes and hair smeared with dirt, and smelling of sweat. Her brother had been in such a panic, and was so relieved and angry when he saw her, that he yelled and threatened to forbid her from going outside ever again if she came home so late again.

He told her to go wash up quickly in the basin in the washroom, and as soon as she had finished doing so, their father was home. That night, Robin had cooked dinner, and because his thoughts had been on where on earth his sister was, he had forgotten to put salt in it.

Marroc spat out the soup after the first mouthful, and violently scattered the bowl and the spoon off the table; the shattered pieces of the bowl exploded from the ground and Allie had to thrust backwards a little to avoid the projection of sharp pieces.

However, for once, Marroc wasn't yelling. His black pupils were just staring thoughtfully into the scared face of his daughter.

Robin had to clench his hands into fists to stop them from trembling violently. He wanted to tell their father that it was his fault, that he was the one who had forgotten to add the salt, but… he couldn't.

Marroc was still staring at Allie's face carefully, and his calmness was even more terrifying than his shouting. Raising his hand, he beckoned to her to come to him. Allie quickly wet her lips. Marroc beckoned to her again. And slowly, reluctantly, helplessly, she did as she was asked.

She registered in a far corner of her mind that he was not reeking of alcohol for once. He was sober and alert, and seemed to know what he was really doing for the first time in weeks. And she had never been so scared.

When she was within touching distance, he bent over and his hand came close to her face. Out of reflex, she shut her eyes tightly closed, expecting the blow to fall.

One second later, his hand was in her hair, down her hair, up her hair again. Allie's eyes snapped open, and encountered her father's mouth twisted up in a smile as his hand caressed the side of her head.

"My girl," he said softly, almost tenderly.

Allie's breathing quickened. She couldn't trust this gentleness at all, because it was not warm. It had a metallic scent to it, something that made her hair stand on edge.

And then his hand was withdrawing, and in his fingers there was something, something green, a leaf that was caught in her hair... still wet from the water she had used to wash up. Her breath hitched. She had not had time to clean up properly. She had…

The blow that connected with her cheek sent her flying backwards; she crashed headfirst into the hard floor, and then rolled, incapable of stopping herself, until she collided with the wall all the way across the room. For a moment, darkness swam in front of her eyes, and she couldn't breathe, to the point that she thought she would faint.

After an indefinite amount of time, it could have been hours or mere seconds, the burning ache on her cheek made her gasp out loud and open her eyes. For a terrifying second, she imagined her jaw lying there on the ground, separated from her face by the blow; but when she brought her hand there to clutch at her face, it still felt full, albeit hot as though in flames.

Her vision swam again, and then she was being dragged across the floor by the hair. Panic swelled up inside her chest, panic like she had never known before. She tried to get away from him, screaming and kicking and trying to hold on to the floor with her hands and fingernails, but her scalp burned so much that she was forced to let go of the floor to hold on to her hair instead.

"Robin!" She cried out. "Help me! Help me Robin! Robin!"

And then they were outside, and a hand was clasped in front of her mouth, muffling her cries. She heard her father grunting and wheezing with the effort as he half-dragged her and half-carried her out into the night. And then she fell on the ground, groggy and disoriented, and Marroc was towering over her.

"You've been playing outside, haven't you? You thought I wouldn't know a thing, eh? You thought you could fool me? Ha!"

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she whispered again and again, clinging to his leg. "I only went out for five minutes, just in the front yard, like before. Just five minutes. But I shouldn't have. I should have asked you first. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Marroc seized her head and bent down to approach his face to hers, and even in the dark she could see those terrifying eyes glinting with fury. "You are a dirty liar. The front yard? Do you see any leaves on our yard, girl? Do you?"

Allie was sobbing now, and hated herself for it, but she couldn't help it. "All right! All right! I went… into the fields for a second. Nobody saw. Just like before, just like before, when you let me go outside for a minute. Just like…"

And then her face was pressed into the mud. She heard her father shift a little to have an easier hold on her head. "You like the outside so much, eh? Well, be as close to Mother Nature as you wish. Do you like it? Do you LIKE it?"

Her head was pulled up again, and she gasped desperately for air while spitting out the mud. And Marroc was pressing her head down again, and again, and again.

_Robin_ – she thought – _Robin. Save me. Save me! Merry. Save me! Merry. Pippin! Someone!_

But no one came, and it continued, seemingly to no end.

Finally, after an eternity, Marroc let go of her hair and sat down beside her still form, breathing heavily from exertion. With one hand, he turned her over and let her lie on her back. She spat out some mud weakly, but apart from that, remained completely still.

When Marroc got his breath back, he wiped the mud off her face with one thumb, painting a clear line amid the brown on her face. "We need to talk," he said calmly as if they were inside sitting around the table, as though he didn't just try to choke her to death a minute ago. "You did something wrong, girl. This is not what we agreed on, right? And you know how I get when you get all disobedient like this, so why go against my will? I know no one saw you. If someone did, I'd be getting a really hard time about it already, don't you think so?"

Allie stayed completely still, but Marroc was unconcerned. He nodded as if she had given him an answer. "It's been hard, hasn't it? Life sure isn't easy. It's hard for me too, providing for you both." He sighed. "That's why you need to be a good girl and listen to me. Next time you want to go out, ask permission first. You understand, right? You can't be playing around in a foreign land, because it's too dangerous. What if you fall down a cliff and die? That would be a lot of trouble for me. A lot of trouble for your brother too. You can't be so cruel to your family."

A shift beside her, and then the sound of footsteps, and then she was alone. Alone in the dark of night, deaf to everything except the wild beating of her own heart.

Slowly, she wiped the mud and the tears and the snot off her face with a hand that felt numb and clumsy. The stars were shining faintly all above her as she lied there on the cold ground. She stared up unblinkingly at those dots of light, and wondered whether it was the mud in her eyes that caused them to look so faint and faraway.

She didn't know how long she lied there, but suddenly a blanket was being wrapped around her body as she was pulled up from the ground.

"Allie! Allie! Oh my, what has he _done_ to you?" Robin was beside her now, holding her up, fussing over her.

"I'm fine," she replied without thinking.

"No, you are not. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" He was holding onto her now, sobbing bitterly, guilt constricting his heart. "It's my fault! Oh, I feel so guilty I could die! I couldn't move! I couldn't protect you! I'm so sorry, so sorry." And he sobbed harder still.

At this, a little life seemed to come back into her eyes, and she slowly reached a hand to pet his rough hair.

"Shhh, I know. It's not your fault," she said, and continued to calm him, to comfort him, while her heart bitterly asked why she couldn't be the one who cried and who was comforted right now. When would it be her turn?

Over the following days, Allie stayed home, wrapped up in a blanket, and stared vacantly outside the window, just like in the earlier days. There was a bruise the size of a palm on her face, and it was swollen, and she could barely eat. She couldn't be seen like this by anybody.

"Merry is wondering where Allie is these days. He's desperate because he wants her help with something." Frodo said to Robin by one warm September late afternoon, as he was trying to do his homework under the shade of a tree, and Robin was by his side polishing a piece of wood with a sharp stone.

Upon hearing Frodo's remarks, the stone derailed on the wood and scratched his thumb. Robin grunted and then brought his finger to his mouth and sucked on it to stop the bleeding.

"She's sick," he answered. "Tell your friend not to go sneaking around our house anymore. I saw him doing just that yesterday."

Frodo wanted to ask whether she was all right, but then let it go. He missed the flash of pain that crossed Robin's face.

* * *

Robin had begged her not to go outside anymore, but she would have none of that. From now on, no one would take away her freedom anymore, because it was the only thing she had left. She had become careless because she hadn't been found out all this time, and she had been way too daring by going so far from home, but all this would change now. It was time to put an end to her explorations. She would stick to the vicinity of Bucklebury Village, and that would be safe. She told her brother so, but the latter was still scared for her. For a moment, she was almost got angry with him, because he wasn't even the one who got beaten. However, she didn't say that, because he was the only other person who also lived under this roof and who shared her daily anguish. And in spite of him not coming to rescue her this time, he was still her only older brother. If she couldn't count on him, who could she count on? She still had the crazy hope that the new life he had promised her so many times would come true one day.

And so, when the first rain of September poured down onto the land below, she opened the door and stepped out, a dark brown cloak over her head and shoulders, hiding her face from view. The bruise was still very visible against her skin, sketched there in patterns of green and purple and red. But at least her cheek wasn't swollen anymore, and she could chew normally again without too much pain.

She ran and ran, away from her house and into the hills. The feeling of the rain on her skin, piercing through her clothes, refreshed her to the core. When she was beyond the pastures and the fields, when she reached that place of complete solitude where no one ever came to, she let her cloak slide to her feet. She lied herself down on the wet grass, and just let the rain pour down on her, washing away everything that felt dirty.

She opened her eyes and looked at the grey clouds, mindless of the rain getting into her eyes. She opened her mouth a little, and the taste of rain was on her tongue at once, sweet and cold. The land around her smelled of dampness, and the wild scent of flowers and grass also invaded her senses, acting like a balm of peacefulness and forgetfulness.

And soon there was peace in her mind once more. She always felt so angry every time her father hurt her this way, so angry that she thought she could burst. But curiously, it was not anger directed at her tormentor, nor towards anyone in particular. Or maybe it was directed towards everyone. All she knew was that it was just anger in itself, an all consuming feeling of rage. She didn't know what would happen if she let it out, so she had to suppress it back.

Roll it up into a ball and lock it up within herself.

And that she did, while she lied on the ground and the rain fell all around her. When she was certain that the anger was gone and that she would be okay, she stood back up and wrapped the cloak around her frame.

She walked aimlessly, not caring how sodden she was, until she reached the outskirts of Buck Hill. She raised her head and wondered what Merry was doing. Then she remembered that he would probably be at school still.

She had not been curious about school too much, but now she wondered where such a place was, and whether she had seen it before but without knowing that it had been a school. And then she thought maybe it was that place with the many buildings and the courtyard behind the wooden gate with the string of letters.

She tightened the hood around her face and made her way there. It was lucky that the building was at the edge of the village, beside some fields. She got there shortly, and just like the first time, she peered beyond the gate into the courtyard. And just like last time, it was still empty. But it wasn't silent. She craned her neck and saw that there seemed to be people in the little low buildings surrounding the courtyard. She couldn't see them clearly across the window, but they all seemed to be seated. The only person standing was at one end of the room, and was pacing back and forth in front of the seated children.

She stared for a moment more before growing weary of it. She was about to leave when the sound of a bell chimed three times, crystal clear in the falling rain. She twirled on her feet, a little startled, and looked around.

There was commotion now in the rooms, and soon the first kids trickled out into the courtyard, loud and impatient to leave. They came running to the gates and Allie barely had time to hurry and turn the corner before the gate was pushed open, and hobbit girls and hobbits boys poured out all around her.

Some of them turned her way and she quickly faced the wall, drawing her cloak even closer. A few bumped into her, but didn't pay her too much attention, although they did look curious.

She knew she couldn't stay here any longer. It was a bad idea, coming here.

Keeping her eyes to the ground, she ran among the other kids, pretending to look around for shelter just like they did, only she was going in the wrong direction and against the flow. Inevitably, she bumped into someone. Books and paper scattered around in the rain, and some kids stopped.

"What are you doing?" a girl's voice rose up in front of her, unhappy.

She mumbled a weak "sorry" and turned around to leave, ignoring the girl's whining that her papers were all wet now. However, she almost immediately bumped into someone else. Panic seized her.

Where was the open space?

"What are you doing here?" she suddenly heard a familiar voice whisper.

She raised her gaze and Frodo's incredulous blue eyes filled her field of vision. Relief washed over her. Frodo looked around, and then pushed her in the back to make her follow him. She did, obediently, and soon they were leaving behind the throng of other kids, and climbing up the slope of a nearby hill, making sure none of the adults in the smials were paying too much attention to them.

They reached the open space at the summit, and sought cover from the rain under the foliage of an acorn tree. Frodo lowered the bag that he had been holding over his head to protect himself from the downpour, and looked around once more to make sure no one had followed them.

Allie sank down against the trunk and breathed in and out deeply.

"What were you doing at the school?" he asked her, quite puzzled.

Grey eyes rose to meet his from the depth of her cloak. "None of your business."

"Well, I just saved you from being discovered, so you owe me one."

She frowned at this and had nothing to say.

"What do you want?" she finally asked.

Frodo crouched down in front of her with a determined glint in his eyes. "How about... you show me how to climb trees?"

Allie thought about it for a second, and realized that there would be plenty of opportunity to make fun of him if she accepted. Frodo seemed to read her mind. "But if you make fun of me even once, the deal will become invalid, and you would owe me another favor."

She frowned deeply at this. "This is unreasonable."

"No, it is not. You owe me one, so you have to go by my rules."

His words were starting to get on her nerves, but this time she really had nothing to say because he was right. She would have been found out at the school if he had not shown up.

"Fine," she agreed petulantly.

Frodo wiped the water that was dripping incessantly on his face from the branches above. The rain had almost stopped now, as he quickly realized when he ventured outside the cover of the tree for a little while.

"One more thing: if I don't succeed, then you will have failed to teach me. So, I suggest you to be serious in your teaching."

Allie rolled her eyes. He must have been really humiliated last time to be so desperate to be on equal grounds with her.

The rain had stopped completely now, and a rainbow could be seen, arching over Bucklebury Village. She stared at it for a moment in wonder, but Frodo had seen plenty of those before, and so he interrupted her contemplation of it. "How about we start now?"

She turned to face him, and in doing so, the cloak slid from her head. "Now?" she echoed, a bit annoyed since she had been hoping to find Merry.

Frodo's eyes widened when he saw her bruise. "What happened to your face?"

Allie covered it quickly with one hand, before sourly letting her hand fall down. "I fell," she answered with a scowl, daring him to question her further.

Frodo ignored the warning. "From a tree?"

She didn't answer.

Frodo sighed. "It seems your own tree climbing is not infallible."

Allie tapped a hand against the bark, which resonated in a muffled way. "I don't have all day, so let's start with this one."

Frodo eyed the tree behind them cautiously. It was an acorn tree with a thick bark still wet from the rain. Would it even be possible to climb it? However, he would not go back on his resolve.

"What do I have to do?" he asked.

Allie approached the trunk and observed it carefully. "First, find a good spot where you can hold on to with your hand or feet. Sometimes it's hard because the bark is smooth, but any cranny will have to do."

The acorn tree was actually not too bad in terms of holds, but it was slippery from the rain. She felt the trunk at head level and then found something that her fingers could curl around. She showed it to Frodo, and he did the same as her. "That's it? There is no way I can stay for long while holding on to this."

She rolled her eyes. "Do you want to hold on forever or what? It's only temporary. Remember that the faster your movements, the easier it will be. And the feet are important too. You need to push yourself upwards with your feet. And see that branch there? – she designated the lowest one above her head – that's what you are aiming for. Once you get a hold on that, it's game over. How to get there is the hardest part."

She stepped back and saw him fondle the bark. He tried to lift a foot and step on a hold, with his chest pressed against the bark, and his right hand on the cranny that she had found for him. He looked ridiculous. She had to turn away in order to stop herself from laughing out loud.

"I don't think this is working," he said and turned around, and saw her standing with her back to him. "Allie, come on, pay attention here."

His eyes narrowed when he saw her back shaking. Shaking with silent laughter. His blood boiled again, and that feeling of humiliation came back in full force. What had gotten into him to ask this of her in the first place?

But she was only one who he had seen climbing trees. It had to be her.

A thought crossed his mind. "Can _you_ even climb this tree? You aren't just giving me an impossible task, are you?"

At this, she finally turned to face him, her expression serious. "Of course I can," she stated haughtily. "I can probably climb any tree by now. It's really not that hard. I can't believe you haven't figured it out by yourself yet. Even Merry could do it after his first try."

Frodo had to remind himself to remain calm. "Not all hobbits were monkeys in their past lives. Show me how you do it, then," he demanded.

Allie eyed him suspiciously, trying to figure out whether he would play a trick on her while she was doing so, but he seemed sincere enough about testing her abilities.

She approached the trunk, and felt around the bark for possible holds. It really was slippery. But it should be doable. Keeping her eyes locked on that lowest branch, she took a few steps back and then ran towards the base of the tree. She jumped on it, her hand finding that cranny at head level, and one foot higher than the other with her knees pressed hard against the bark.

She fondled until her other hand found a higher cranny, and all the while her feet were pressing on the trunk. She felt all her muscles tense as she propelled herself upwards; although her feet kept slipping, she held on good and continued her ascent inexorably, until a last kick let her right hand grab hold of that lowest branch. Both her feet slipped and dangled in the air, but she was good now, as long as she held on to that branch. Her other hand came to take hold of the branch as well, and then her feet were flat against the bark, and she walked upwards until they too, circled around the lowest branch. She then twisted and hoisted herself until she was sitting on top of the branch.

A little breathless, but proud nonetheless, she looked down into the face of a stunned Frodo.

She smiled giddily and beckoned to him to follow her up. Frodo had to admit that he was impressed.

And under her guidance, he jumped upwards like her, but would soon fall back down because his feet kept slipping. Allie was shouting orders at him from above – hold that cranny, your other hand too, use your feet… yes, just like that. And now keep hold. No silly, you are doing it wrong – until Frodo fell down on his back and stared at the green wet foliage, breathing heavily with his hands and feet burning with scorching pain.

Allie was looking at him, sitting on the branch with her feet dangling in the air, and he felt a horrible sense of déjà vu. Too tired to feel humiliated, however, he got up to try again. This time, he managed not to slip, but he was stuck. It took him all of his effort just to hold still in that position. His knees were pressing hard against the bark, and his fingers dug into that cranny. Lifting his face towards her, all his limbs trembling, he wanted to ask her what now, but could only scream out with effort.

Allie looked down at him, with his eyes shut tight and his teeth showing; honestly, if he was standing normally, he would probably be able to reach higher than in his current position. The sight of him was really too much.

She burst out laughing at the same time as Frodo let go.

"You… you…" Frodo hissed from his position on the ground. "You lost. I told you if you laughed, you will have to do something else that I tell you to do!"

But Allie didn't care. She was holding her stomach and laughing so much that she almost lost her balance and fell down as well.

Ashamed and angry, Frodo stood up and seized his bag. He'd had enough. Allie swallowed back her laughter. "Frodo! Are you running away again?"

"It's hopeless," he grunted, "and you are not making things easier."

There was a rustle of leaves, and then she landed on the ground in front of him. Frodo looked up at the empty branch, then his eyes traveled back to her.

"Did you just jump down from over there?"

Her eyes were bearing onto his face rather intensely, and then she said: "Nothing is hopeless. As you try to accomplish something, more often than not, folk will not make it easy for you. That is one of the first things I learned when I was younger."

Frodo studied her face carefully. "Still, do you have to laugh so much?" he asked sullenly.

"I can't control that. I laugh when something is funny. Don't you?"

Frodo rubbed his eyes, seeing that she had obviously never learned about tact.

"Try again!" she commanded as she pointed at the tree.

Frodo sighed. It was him who had asked her to teach him. Even if she laughed at him, he would see this task done.

"Go ahead," she said from behind him. "I'll watch from here."

And so Frodo tried again, grunting, sweating, and kicking wildly, stretching his arm to reach that branch that seemed so far away. Presently, his feet seemed more familiar with the texture of the bark, and on the third try, he found that he was inching slowly upwards. Feeling a glint of hope and a surge of new strength, he stretched his hand and… he could now touch the branch with the tip of his fingers!

So close!

He pushed with his left feet, but instead of propelling himself upwards, he slipped. He tried to close his hand on the branch, but failed. He waited for the usual fall, but this time there was a hand on his back, and he stayed where he was.

"Go, go! Reach for it!" came Allie's grunt.

Frodo brought his left feet against the bark again and felt Allie pushing him upwards. And then his hand was around that branch. And then he was walking up the bark like her, and finally, he found himself sitting on top of it. The feeling of victory that burst inside of him was hard to describe. Frodo screamed out in triumph and threw his little fist in the air.

"I did it! I did it!"

The ground seemed lower than he expected from here, and he couldn't believe how difficult it had been to make his way up, but he had made it!

_With a little help –_ his thoughts supplied unhelpfully, but he quenched them down.

Allie was looking up at him with a half smile. "Next time, do it by yourself."

But nothing could dampen Frodo's enthusiasm. "I did it by myself, mostly. No one asked you to help me!"

"Yes, but I wanted to," Allie replied.

Frodo wanted to make a biting remark, but she seemed sincere enough. The realization took him by surprise and made him frown. So once again, he was rendered speechless. Why was she so inconsistent? Every time he thought he had her figured out, she said or did something that completely erased his previous impression of her.

While he was pondering all this, she had climbed up again and was now sitting beside him on the branch. Frodo shuffled to make some space, and soon they were both sitting with their hands on the branch and their feet dangling idly in mid-air.

They looked at the scenery of Bucklebury village in silence for a moment, each plunged in their own thoughts.

"What's Bree like?" he suddenly asked. "You said folk did not make it easier for you when you were younger. Were you referring to Bree-folk?"

Allie tensed a bit.

"Why are you asking me this?" she demanded dryly.

Frodo was a bit taken aback. He hadn't meant to upset her; he was simply curious. However, there she was again, switching tones faster than he could say switch.

"It was only a question, Allie," he answered rather coldly. "If you don't want to answer, just say so."

Allie nibbled her lower lip, feeling a bit guilty for snapping at him. He was the only in this new place who had questioned her about her past, and she did not know how she should react to this. Merry and Pippin had never asked her such questions in all the time they played together.

"Bree is big," she finally said, "everything is bigger compared to here, because there are Big People over there. Their houses are all made of stone and brick and wood. Nobody there lives underground in holes. The only rooms under the ground are the basements, where they keep the wine and the things they don't use."

"The streets are wider too, because there are plenty of carts passing by, pulled by horses, not by ponies. The horses are way bigger and stronger and faster. I've ridden one once. My friends and I, we sneaked into the barn one day. While the Man had his back turned, Reginard and I got on the back of the horse by stepping onto a pile of boxes. The door of the barn was open because the Man was changing the hay inside the stall, so I kicked the horse, and it charged so fast I almost lost hold of his mane. Reg was behind me and he was holding the reins. We rode all around town until Big People started coming to chase us down. They stopped the horse but they didn't catch us. We ran away and got away with it. They looked for us for awhile but then gave up. It was the best day ever!"

She smiled giddily as she recalled those days at Bree. Things had been better back then.

"There is a big Inn in there as well, called the Prancing Pony, and some hobbits like you and me work there. My friends and I liked to play there instead because the folk at the kitchen would give us food. Once, we played at messing up the receipts so that the customers would all get the wrong food. It was so funny when this lady got cow eyes… - she saw Frodo's grimace of disgust – yes, they have stuff like that over there. It's quite good actually. Anyway, this lady, she fainted because she has never seen anything of the like from where she came from. Speaking of which, there are actually a lot of travelers from distant places that stop at Bree. In the evening, they would tell stories about their countries and moors. Did you know that Wizards do exist? There is one Man who said that his wife got cursed and grew a mustache after she got a Wizard mad. I think that's nonsense, however. She probably had a mustache to begin with and her husband was just trying to put the blame onto someone else. But anyway, Wizards do exist because I have seen one myself. He was cloaked all in grey robes and he had a pointy hat and a long stick. It was dark but I saw him all right, and when he saw me back, he just disappeared like that, poof, in mid-air!"

Frodo was quite mesmerized by what she was telling him. He always wondered how it was like outside the Shire, and now his head was filled of images of Big People, and horses, and Wizards. That gave him a lot more inspiration for his make-believe games. Maybe it was time to graduate from fighting Goblins to fighting Wizards.

But Allie wasn't done. "And things are way more dangerous in Bree. Here, you people don't even lock your doors, but in Bree if you don't do that, you could get robbed or even worse, killed in your sleep."

She watched with satisfaction as Frodo shuddered. "Yes, you had to lock your doors and windows. At night, there are thieves and murderers and the like, and even I was afraid of them after I saw one up close. I was out at night, and none of my friends wanted to join me because they were too frightened, so I was exploring the alleys all by myself. Everywhere, there are posters of wanted people on the walls, and I wanted to catch one because you can get gold in exchange for their heads. Anyway, I was razing the walls and being attentive when suddenly there was this sound up ahead. I was really scared and I didn't move. I saw some garbage cans and I hid behind them. It was good I did that, because two seconds later, this Man was passing me by. I didn't make a sound, and when he passed me by, he had this knife in his hand and there was blood on it too."

She shuddered and looked at Frodo, pleased to see that his knuckles were white as he clenched the tree branch. In fact, she had made that last part up, because the real encounter was nothing special. She thought she had seen a Man. The shadow on the wall had seemed like that of a Man, but when she had peered up from above the garbage can, she had seen a big dog disappearing at the corner. It was a huge dog, really, and she had been afraid, but still, that was less scary than an actual murderer. So now she told the modified (and improved) version of things to all her friends.

And she told him more stories of her childhood in the streets of Bree, of all the games she used to play with her friends. At one point, she realized that she was getting out of control and soon she might forget herself and say something she would regret later, but Frodo was too good an audience to waste. He actually believed every single word she uttered. Some of her stories were true, some were half true, and others were totally made up, but he believed in every single one of them, reacting just the way she hoped at all the right moments.

As for Frodo, he was listening, entranced, but he was also looking at her while she spoke, at the way her hands moved to emphasize the action, at the way her animated gaze seemed far away as she recalled her memories, at the way her always untidy blond curls were falling in her eyes, at her clothes smeared with dirt and moss, at that nasty bruise on her cheek that seemed even nastier up close. She was a lass unlike any he'd ever seen. The only lass he ever spoke more than two words to was that neighbor who had moved away a few years ago, the one that Merry had accused him of playing house with. That lass, she had been almost the exact opposite of Allie. She was shy and didn't speak much, and the only time they ventured beyond his front yard by themselves, she had been sticking close to him and whimpering all the while, begging him to go back. She had broken into sobs when a bee had flown too close to her head.

Frodo wondered how Allie would have reacted, but one thing was for sure, he couldn't picture her breaking into sobs for anything.

"… and once we tried climbing the hedge enclosing one side of the village. We competed to see who could get on top the fastest, but it was too soft and a twig broke, so we all fell, and Reg broke his ankle," Allie was telling him now. "After that, Reg was in a lot of pain, so we took turns piggy-backing him home. But that fool, he was grinning all the while and calling us his ponies. I know he did it because he didn't want to admit how much it hurt, but still."

"You were carrying a boy on your back?" Frodo finally interrupted her, for the first time slightly incredulous.

"Why, you don't think I can?" she exclaimed, offended, because she really did piggy-back him for like five seconds. "I could probably lift you up with no problem!"

Frodo laughed at her. "Don't be ridiculous!"

She was about to tell him she could do it right now if they climbed down, but then she remembered who he was. "Whatever. You can believe what you want. I'm not carrying you ever, anyway."

Frodo snorted. "Right, like I want to be carried by a lass, ever!"

"Like I would ever _want_ to carry you, ever. Even if you beg, I wouldn't."

"I wouldn't beg even if my life depended on it," Frodo assured her.

"Good."

But now she didn't feel like telling any more stories. She was running out of them anyway.

"So did you ever try climbing that hedge again?" Frodo asked.

"No. It wouldn't work."

"It wouldn't be impressive even if you manage to do so, because I bet it's not as high as the one we have here in Buckland."

Allie's eyes widened with interest. "There is a hedge high like that in here? Where? I haven't seen it." Her eyes narrowed. "You're pulling my leg, aren't you?"

"Why would I? This hedge of ours runs for kilometers and kilometers, and it's high like…" he peered up. "Probably higher than this tree."

Allie scoffed. "Of course."

"I will show you one day, and then you will believe me."

Allie was more uncertain now. "It really does exist?"

"It's as real as the branch we are sitting on! The only problem is that we are not supposed to go near it, no matter what."

Allie rolled her eyes. "Because the hedge is guarding something evil, right?"

Frodo was puzzled. "How did you know that?"

"I just knew it! The hobbits here said the same about ponds and water, but it's all lies in the end."

"No, but this hedge is for real. I saw it from afar last summer. There is the Old Forest on the other side." His voice had dropped to a whisper at the last words.

"Some old trees? Not even a monster?" She laughed. "Unbelievable!"

"That Forest is evil, though. You might not believe me, but you will see once when you get near it. You can feel it in the air."

Allie felt a surge of excitement at this challenge. Fine, she would see whether that Forest was truly as scary as Frodo was making it out to be.

"Is it far from here?" she asked.

"A half day's trip I suppose," he answered.

So it was closer than that new village she had discovered. The thought of the village reminded her of her father suddenly, and her blood froze at the sight of the sun setting.

"I need to go now," she said, feeling nervous. She knew her father wouldn't be back home for another couple of hours, but she couldn't take any risks now.

She jumped down and landed on all fours. Frodo hesitated for an instant, and then followed her, growling when he lost his balance and rolled on the ground. However, Allie was already leaving, not paying any more heed to him. He sighed at her retreating back and went to pick up his school bag; then, he followed her down the hill, trudging through the still wet grass.

* * *

_There! Hope you liked it. I really want to know your thoughts so far on this story, so please feel free to leave some comments! Thanks for reading! :)_


	8. White Revenge

**White Revenge**

Allie went outside and stretched under the warm morning sun. The rain from the night before still lingered in the damp grass and fresh smell of earth. She ran all the way to the acorn tree that she had taught Frodo how to climb, and as she sat on that same branch, she observed the school. She could see its courtyard clearly from her high vantage point.

All the kids were in the rooms until lunch time, and when the bell chimed three times, they trickled out into the courtyard to play and eat. Merry had been right. It did look awfully dull. She wondered what they were doing inside those walls for all those hours.

Her bruise, although still looking nasty, didn't hurt anymore when she touched it. She wanted to forget about it, and forget about what had caused it, but every time Robin looked at her, there was this look of guilt on his face that made it impossible for her to do so. That made her upset.

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of those thoughts. Instead, she focused on what Merry had told her the day before. He had recounted to her the episode with Berilac and the toad all the while getting flushed with anger and eagerness for revenge. She had listened to him seriously. After an offense like that, it was natural to be thinking of payback against that Berilac fellow. She didn't know him, but he was Merry's enemy, and so he would be hers too. Even if she didn't want it to be that way, it was already too late, for Merry had already enlisted her in his army and now she had to help him think of an adequate revenge plan.

She was thinking that maybe they could put worms in his lunch, but Merry told her he had already done that in the past. It had to be something that could get him punished, because that was what Berilac was scared of the most. He never dared disobey his father.

Well, she certainly didn't have any good ideas for now. She didn't know much about the things that could get your parents mad at you, because all her life, she had been trying to do just the opposite.

Her thoughts suddenly drifted to what she had caught Frodo doing one afternoon by the Brandywine River. He was wearing a weird looking hat and swinging a stick around while muttering to himself. After a while, she finally understood that he was pretending he was some kind of ship commander who was fending off enemies while protecting his ship. And his ship was that raft tied to the pier, floating near the riverbank.

"Be careful!" the blue-eyed hobbit had screamed to no one in particular. "Protect the back of the ship! There is a giant sea pulp trying to get on it!"

Allie had bitten her fist to stop herself from laughing out loud. He looked so utterly ridiculous! What kind of game was this?

After a few more minutes of watching him, her amusement faded and she left him to it, shaking her head as she walked away.

The bells finally chimed three times again, and Allie sat up straight on her tree, eyes expectantly following the line of children that rushed out of the school gates. She had told Merry how to get to the tree and hoped that he remembered her directions. Soon enough, she saw two hobbits detaching themselves from the rest to climb up the hill.

Allie slid down the tree at the same time as Frodo and Merry appeared in sight. She threw a questioning look at Merry upon seeing Frodo, but Merry just gave her a half-apologetic smile. "Frodo said he knew how to get here. Besides, he also wants to help me with my revenge."

Allie rolled her eyes. Well, she seriously doubted that. Merry had probably blackmailed him one way or another into doing it. Indeed, Frodo's presently resigned expression confirmed her doubts.

"Why not?" she said with a shrug. "As long as he doesn't start going crazy in the middle of it."

"Why do you say such a thing?" Frodo demanded with a glare.

She smiled. "Just a hunch?"

"All right, please don't fight. Let us mobilize our brains now, okay?" Merry pleaded.

"A hunch?" Frodo huffed as he totally ignored Merry. "Did you get it from staying up in the trees for too long?"

Allie watched him with an arched eyebrow. She really did not want to bring it up, but he was really leaving her with no choice.

Thus, to Merry and Frodo's bemusement, she suddenly stood up straight and put a hand behind her back. "There is a huge sea pulp at the back of the ship!" She declared in a fake deep voice, her eyes surveying Frodo's reaction.

"Huh?" Merry was trying hard to keep his jaw from falling to the ground in the face of this randomness.

Frodo, however, gasped out loud. He was standing behind Merry, and was now eyeing the Brandybuck boy with alarm. He knew he'd never hear the end of it if Merry learned of his make-believe games. He didn't know how she had found out, but he could not let her tell Merry!

"Oh, no!" Allie was continuing. "Everybody get their swords! Fatty just got eaten by the pulp!"

Frodo was making a cross with his arms from behind Merry, intimating her to stop, but dropped his arms abruptly when Merry turned around towards him. "Frodo, what is she doing?"

"I don't know! She's clearly lost her mind! And she's calling me the crazy one here?"

"All rally to captain Frodo!" Allie bellowed.

Frodo leapt forward and, seizing her by the arm, dragged her a few feet away. Breathing rapidly, he let out in an undertone: "Stop right this instant! Why are you doing this?"

She pressed her lips together to stop herself from smiling. "Oh, don't mind me. I'm just playing a game by myself here."

"You little brat!" Frodo let out in exasperation. "Fine, I get it. What do you want?"

"I want you to stop annoying me."

He let out a loud sigh. "You are the one who keeps annoying _me_."

"How so?"

Frodo blew out some air to help keep himself calm. "Are you truly asking me because you don't know? What is so wrong with my games? You don't even understand them!"

"What are you two muttering over there?" Merry inquired.

Allie ignored him and simply eyed Frodo pensively. "If there's nothing wrong with them, why do you feel the need to keep them a secret from Merry?"

"Because! Merry doesn't understand either!"

"Oh. I see."

Frodo felt himself blushing in spite of himself. "Can you please stop annoying me, and keep it a secret?"

Allie tapped her chin pensively, her grey eyes considering Frodo's flustered expression.

"No, I don't think so," she finally let out, looking falsely contrite, "I'm bad with secrets, you see."

Frodo glared at her with all the frustration he could muster. If she hadn't been Robin's sister and a lass, he didn't know what he would do to her.

"Frodo! Allie!" Merry called out, coming towards them, more and more confused.

Frodo seized Allie's wrist and shook his head.

She gave him a small smile that Frodo could not read, and then twirled towards Merry, face completely innocent. "I'm sorry, Merry! Forget what I just did."

"What were you saying all that for? What ship? And captain Frodo?" His eyes darted towards Frodo briefly, full of suspicion.

"It's a coded message!" Frodo supplied quickly.

Merry just stared. "What? A coded message for what?"

"Frodo has an idea for your revenge," she replied, turning her expectant gaze onto Frodo. The latter was looking at her as though she had gone nuts. "What are you talking about?" he mouthed to her silently with his back to Merry. Allie merely shrugged.

"Really?" Merry was now looking at Frodo with eyes full of hope. "What is it, Frodo? Tell me!"

Frodo swore that he'd get back to her for all this. "Umm… well, you see, it's not an idea _per se_. It's… well you know what I do best, right?"

"No?" Merry was now scowling at him.

"Spying?" Allie pointed out.

Frodo pointed a finger towards her, a glint in his eyes. "Yes! That's right! Spying!" He was not even offended, because he had just gotten an idea of how to buy some time. "We need to spy on Berilac first to see what he is up to after school. And _then_ we can form a plan!"

Merry was thoughtful at this. "Well, you do have a point. Come on, let's get moving then!"

Frodo threw a triumphant smile at Allie as he passed her by, and she responded by sticking out her tongue.

So the three hobbits moved swiftly across the fields until they reached Buck Hill. Allie stared up and hesitated. Buck Hill was the only place she hadn't dared to go yet because it didn't seem to offer much protection against prying eyes.

"Berilac will be here somewhere," Merry let out in a low whisper, eyes glancing around, not missing a single detail. "I'm going to get back at him for the toad. He really shouldn't have done that."

They painfully made their way up the slope, which was covered by scattered groups of trees and lawns. The big smials were silent for the most part. A sheep bleated somewhere in the distance, followed by the barking of dogs. The ground was still wet and slippery from the last downpour.

Merry looked around into the distance, at the farms and animal pens, but no one was in sight. On the other side of the hill, the Brandywine River undulated below like a silver ribbon.

Suddenly, Frodo cried out as he almost fell after stepping atop a plank of wood that someone had left there; when Frodo had shifted his weight on it, the wood had slipped downwards on the wet grass.

Merry and Allie threw him a sidelong glance, but seeing that he was not hurt, they continued. Allie was nervous about this. There was no real hiding place. What if an adult popped out? However, Merry had stopped because he had noticed that Frodo wasn't following them anymore.

"What's wrong, Frodo?" he called out impatiently.

Frodo didn't pay him any heed; he was looking down at the wood plank pensively, but a mischievous light was dancing in his blue eyes. The plank was in fact from the bottom edge of a small cart that had been separated from the rest. Below it there were still four wooden wheels attached.

"Come look at this!"

"It's just a broken cart," Allie stated blankly. "What about it?"

It was quite big in actuality, probably almost one meter long. Frodo put his foot on it and pushed on it, and the plank glided downwards in the wet grass and mud.

Merry was confused. "What are you doing?"

"Don't you see? This could be fun!"

Since the other two were still staring at him blankly, he sighed and seized the thing, carrying it upwards a little in order to show them. He couldn't believe they weren't seeing what he was about to do!

Placing the board until the wheels were facing down the slope, he backed off a few steps, and then ran towards the plank, jumped on it and sat down. The momentum propelled the plank downwards and... Frodo was not expecting this to be working so well! He was gliding down the slope on the plank, gathering speed as he went, the wheels shaking underneath him. The plank bounced on rocks and tree roots but that didn't stop its course.

Air was whooshing past his face and hair, and he screamed out in frightened delight. Then, one of the wheels caught onto something and Frodo found himself ejected from the platform, flying in the air as the plank toppled over. There was a collision, and then his world turned upside down several times before it all came to a stop. His chest heaving, his clothes muddy and wet, he lied there and stared up at the bright sky, a feeling of exhilaration in his chest.

A few seconds later, there were footsteps coming towards him, and then Merry and Allie were by his side. He got up on one elbow and met their excited faces and bright smiles.

"Are you okay?" Merry asked. "That was insane!"

"That was brilliant!" Allie cried out.

"Right? That felt amazing!"

"Let's try it!" Allie was trembling with anticipation and adrenaline. "Come on! Let's get this up the slope once more!"

"It's big enough for all three of us!" Merry chirped.

The three hobbits carried the plank up the way they came from, no longer feeling the strain of climbing upwards.

"I will be sitting here in front!" Frodo stated determinedly. The other two didn't protest.

"Look," Allie was saying, "it will be better if we can push this thing. I think it will go faster that way. So each of us should push on it first and then jump on board."

Merry was nodding, understanding at once. "Frodo, you go first. Allie, you go next. I'll be last."

"In fact, it will be better if you position yourself lower on the slope," Frodo told Allie, "and Merry, you should be even further down the slope. So when I pass by, you two can jump on one after the other!"

They went to the highest point of the hill, and looked at the slope extending downwards. It seemed like such a long and treacherous road before it reached the bottom! Filled with fear and excitement, they busied themselves to get ready.

Just like the first time, Frodo ran and threw himself on the plank, which started gliding downwards slowly. Allie ran along the plank while pushing Frodo, and when they were finally gathering speed, she jumped on it and clung to Frodo's back. Immediately, Merry was running like crazy beside them, pushing Allie's back. When the plank was gliding faster than he could run, he jumped behind Allie and held onto her tightly. The three hobbits screamed out in terror as the cart was now out of control, gliding downwards even faster than with Frodo alone, because it was now propelled by the weight of the three of them.

Frodo was holding onto a cranny in the wood of the plank. The scenery on both sides and in front of his eyes was blurry. The wheels bounced on a rock, and the hobbits felt their bodies leaving the plank for a second, before connecting with it again. At a steeper part of the hill, the cart flew into the airs, and they all clung to the wood, shrieking their lungs out. The impact as the cart connected again with the ground took the breath out of all of them. Now it was not going in a straight trajectory anymore, but was winding around the crooks and crannies, rocks and trees of the hill side, making the hobbits hang on for dear life. And finally, as it was reaching the bottom of the hill, it progressively slowed down before coming to a jerky halt.

The three kids sat on it, stunned, exuberant, breathless, clinging to, and looking at each other, with awe on their faces as though they had just survived a shipwreck.

"That was…" Merry started.

"… mind-blowing!" Allie finished.

"Let's do it again!" Frodo exclaimed.

And so they were running up the hill again, laughing, vibrating with energy. They took turns now with who sat in front, and they also tried different paths down the hill. Sometimes, one of them would fall down mid-way, or all of them would fall out. Once, the board collided with a tree, and they were all ejected to fall in a pile of tangled bodies. Soon, their clothes and bodies were covered in mud and grass, and there were bruises and scratches all over them, which they disregarded completely.

Allie found a stout stick, and realized that she could somehow control the trajectory of the cart if she used it to push against the ground to the side as they glided downwards. However, she didn't have enough strength to do a good job with it, and so Merry and Frodo took turns trying to control the trajectory.

They had completely forgotten about Merry's revenge until Allie noticed a flash of white to her right as they were gliding down for the hundredth time. On the way back up, she crawled among the tufts of grass to see what the white flash was all about.

And there, not far from Brandy Hall, in an open area between two trees, a young hobbit lad was clumsily hanging up white sheets for them to dry in the sun. He was trying to get them over a rope attached from one tree to the other. Allie beckoned to Merry. "Is that Berilac?"

Merry's eyes widened. "Yes! No mistake! Ha! My Aunt must have forced him to help her with the laundry again. It's a good thing that my Mom never trusts me with those things. How tedious!"

However, a sparkle was growing in the hobbit girl's eyes as Merry was speaking. From where they were presently situated, there was a steep slope leading down directly to the area where Berilac was hanging the laundry.

"I think I have an idea for your revenge, Merry," she let the words roll out of her mouth almost carefully.

Frodo suddenly understood what she meant. "You are not saying…"

She turned to look at him, her eyes full of a wild and playful light. "Yes, it's precisely that."

Merry was catching on as well. "Brilliant…" he whispered, trying to wrap his mind around the idea, and scared that it would pop like a soap bubble if he thought about it too hard. "This is too brilliant!"

Frodo was already fumbling with their cart, positioning it over the edge of the slope they were standing on. Allie ran to help him. "We can't make any mistakes," she was telling him fierily, "we will only get one chance."

Merry was still lost in contemplation of the white clean sheets blowing in the wind. It was the best possible revenge. He still couldn't believe it.

"Come here Merry, staring won't do any good," Allie called out to him.

Merry turned around to see that everything was ready. He was nervous, feverish, wound up.

Allie handed him the stout stick. "It's your revenge, so make sure you get us there."

Merry clutched the stick and nodded seriously.

They all exchanged a glance, and then they were ready.

Merry was to go first. He took a deep breath, and then jumped on the cart, immediately using the stick to help him gather speed. Allie was now behind him. Merry could feel her keyed up energy as she clung to his shoulders. And then Frodo was behind her, holding onto her. Their movements were well practiced, and now their combined energies had a purpose. None of them screamed as the board glided swiftly and silently downwards, towards the shiny white sheets billowing in the wind.

A rock bumped them to the left, and suddenly, they found themselves out of their trajectory.

"To the right! Merry, use the stick!" Allie urged.

Merry gritted his teeth and pushed the ground to his left with the stick. He did it several times until Allie yelled that it was all right now.

They were back on track. But they had also been spotted!

Berilac now had his head turned towards them and watched as they charged down the slope towards him like a wave. He recognized Merry up in front, his brown hair blowing in the wind, and a ferocious smile on his lips. He glanced at the sheets and understanding washed over his face. He started running towards them, yelling, shouting, flapping his arms, a white sheet still rolled into a ball in one hand.

But he was too late.

Merry, Allie and Frodo all screamed out in ecstasy as they charged straight into one of the white sheets; it now enveloped the three of them, wrapping around their faces and bodies, and making them completely blind to where they were going.

There was a snapping sound as the laundry rope broke, and all the sheets fell to the ground, where they got dragged in the wet grass and mud behind the three hobbits' cart.

Their course was finally interrupted by some obstacle on the ground or perhaps by the friction of the white sheet wrapped around them. In any case, they found themselves tangled into one another and into the white sheets. Frodo tore at it immediately, trying to find an opening from which they could escape. He spit out Allie's hair that was in his mouth, and pushed her head away from him impatiently, while his other hand pulled at the sheets. As for Allie, she was trying to avoid Merry's furry foot that was centimeters from her face. Merry was trying to free his arm from under Frodo's body.

The three hobbits struggled for an instant, feeling as though they were in some sort of white prison, until finally a breath of fresh air reached their faces from the opening that Frodo had managed to dig out.

Berilac was already running towards them, wearing a grimace of anger on his face. "You won't get away! There is no way you can get this blamed on me, Meriadoc!"

Allie was tugging at Merry's shirt. "He can't see me! What to do?"

Merry bit his lip, but first they had to get out of their tangle. They pushed at each other and then parted the sheets on top of their heads until they were finally standing straight. Frodo then seized a white sheet from the ground that was already smeared with so much dirt that it looked grey; he threw that sheet over the heads of the three of them and yelled : "Run!"

And so they ran, Frodo in the middle, Allie to his right, and Merry to his left. From his uplifted arms, the sheet flew and billowed behind them like a giant cape. Laughing giddily, with Berilac's loud curses behind them, they made for the trees.

Before diving into the woods, Frodo let the sheet go, and once free, it flew behind them, a big, distorted white shape, twisting and swelling a moment in the wind before falling in a heap on the grass. Berilac stopped beside it, gasping for breath, and looked ahead desperately, but the three of them had already disappeared into the woods.

At the same moment, a loud shrill came from the house behind him, and Berilac's face became even whiter than the sheet at his feet when he recognized it as being his mother's. Clutching his head in his hands, he let himself fall on the grass. Maybe he could delay his punishment if he pretended he had just fainted.

Far away from Buck Hill, Frodo, Allie and Merry were laughing with euphoria, jumping in the air and high fiving each other.

"Best revenge ever!" Merry shouted at the top of his lungs. "This one will go down in history! I just know it!"

"Berilac will probably be grounded for a week for this," Frodo agreed. "Did you see how mad his Mom was?"

"I didn't, I was too busy looking at Berilac!" Merry howled. "He looked like he was going to faint!"

"It will be hard for him to come up with anything remotely close to this if he wants to get back at you!" Allie managed to get out between two bouts of laughter.

Merry passed an arm around each of his friends. "We need to celebrate! Anyone has an idea how?"

"An idea again?" she mused dubiously. I'm sorry, Merry, but my brain is melted from overworking on your brilliant revenge. I don't think I will have any more ideas for awhile."

"Fine! I will come up with something then!" Merry boasted, and then he tried to stand still for a moment, a finger to his chin as though in thought, but soon he was bursting out in cries of joy again, running in circles, full of adrenaline and incapable of calming down, all under the laughing eyes of the other two.

Much later, this moment would forever remain one of Allie's favorite memories when she thought back to her childhood. This had been an afternoon that she would never forget.

After the epicness of their cart ride, Allie and Frodo settled on a sort of silent truce in which they agreed on not bothering the other every time they saw each other. Allie had to admit that it was not as fun, but she couldn't deny her newfound respect for Frodo for discovering that plank gliding game. She had to admit that his head did have potential for good ideas from time to time.

At home, things had been uneventful as well, which she was thankful for. Robin and she hung out together sometimes after his work; they would go to the woods and try to catch insects, just like back in Bree when they chased after wild cats together. Afterward, they would come home hand in hand, walking leisurely and enjoying the evening air.

"I'm hiding the money I'm making in a safe place now. Father won't find it this time."

She nodded appreciatively.

"You are hungry, aren't you? Do you want me to buy you something to eat? Maybe some grilled meat?"

It was tempting, but she shook her head no. "No, save up the money so that we can leave sooner," she told him. "How much will we need before we have enough?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe two hundred silver coins. It needs to be enough to rent a room in Bree."

"And we won't need a cart to get there. We will walk. I think I still remember the way."

Robin smiled and ruffled her unruly curls. "Me too."

His gaze turned concerned. "But are you eating enough? Boffin lets me eat as many apples as I want, but I'm worried about you."

"Oh, I've got my ways," she said vaguely.

In fact, she hadn't told anybody, but she had been taken things from the fields. It was harvesting season, and all the fruits and vegetables were ripe. They tasted sweet and nourishing after they had just been plucked from the trees and shrubs. She took one carrot here and one cabbage there, never taking too much from the same field. The farmers had plenty of everything though; she doubted they would ever notice a few missing.

And she was right; they didn't.

* * *

"Happy birthday Frodo!" A multitude of voices screamed out as Frodo stood by the edge of the table, blushing from all the attention and trying to hide behind his mother's dress. Primula gently pushed him forward. "Come on, blow off the candles now."

There was a huge cake on the table in front of him, with eleven candles standing on it. Frodo stood on his tip toes and had to blow three times until every single candle had been put out.

A wave of cheers and clapping welcomed his gesture, followed by a rain of confetti, and soon all the guests started busying themselves, some cutting the cake, some getting the plates and forks, and some pouring out juice into tall glasses.

The adults also popped open a bottle of champagne, cheering when the content exploded outwards in a jet of liquid and foam. Frodo was given the first piece of cake with a red cheery on top. He wiped the cream off the edge with one finger and put it in his mouth, eyes already scanning the smial for his friends.

He spotted them on the other side of the table, all impatiently waiting for their own portion of the cake. Frodo crawled under the table and joined them on the other side.

Folco and Fatty Bolger saw him and gave him a congratulatory clap on the back. "Happy birthday, Frodo."

Frodo beamed. "Thank you!"

Fatty finally got his piece of cake and finished it within one minute.

"Where is Merry?" Frodo asked.

Suddenly, a loud tinkling sound ran throughout the room, and all the heads turned towards the table in the middle, on top of which stood Merry clinking a silver spoon against a cup.

"Can I have your attention?" His voice, albeit young, was clear. "I'm going to sing a song to celebrate Frodo's eleventh birthday, so please listen!"

The adults started laughing and gave cheers of encouragement. Saradoc stood to the side, an arm around Esmeralda's shoulders, and cheered harder than the others. "That's my lad!"

"Come on sing for us!" someone else shouted.

Merry looked around, feeling important, and then took a deep breath.

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Frodo! Happy birthday tooo youuu!"

Merry bowed as all the guests threw their hands up in the air and then clapped wholeheartedly. Merry saw Frodo looking at him and winked. Frodo beamed back.

Suddenly, another hobbit climbed up on the table beside Merry.

"That wasn't very original, Merry," Berilac stated disdainfully. "I can do better!" And turning towards the expectant faces of the adults, he said: "Let me now sing a song for Frodo."

Merry was trying to discreetly push him off the table, but Berilac planted his feet down firmly and ignored him.

Then, singing in the same melody as Merry did previously, he started: "Hello Frodo I'm Berilac! You turned eleven so fast! But don't worry I'll catch up to you! Next year around this time!"

Everyone burst out laughing, and Merry was miserable to notice that the cheer that followed was much louder than what he had gotten after his own song! Merimac, Berilac's father, was standing on a stool screaming "Bravo! Bravo!', until Saradoc kicked the stool, making his brother fall off.

Berilac addressed a triumphant smile in Merry's direction.

"You just sounded like a duck!" Merry sang in the same melody above the ruckus, "and made everyone go yuck! Do you think that you're a good singer? Please take some lessons first!"

Berilac fisted his hands and stared Merry down, before replying in the same "happy birthday" melody:

"Is that jealousy I detect? Is your intelligence unchecked? Why _are_ you copying me on this? Stop being so lame!"

Every time one of them finished, the adults cheered. After a few minutes of this sing-off, Frodo felt his shirt being tugged on insistently.

"What is it, Fatty?"

"Do you have another cake?" The young fat hobbit asked, with cream still all over his mouth and cheeks.

Frodo stared at the place where the rest of the cake was a moment before. "Did you just finish everything?"

Fatty nodded unscrupulously. "So? If you got no more cake, that's fine. But I think I saw a pie somewhere in here."

Before getting an answer, Fatty Bolger was already trudging his way among the crowd, heading towards the other tables. Frodo scratched his head, before searching out his mom to ask her if they had more food.

When the evening came, all the guests made their way to the Brandywine River, carrying with them little wooden plates with a small candle inside. It was custom that on birthdays, each guest would put their little wooden plate with the candle on the River and let it float away while making a good wish. That was the reason why the more guests there were, the more beautiful the ribbon of light looked as it traveled down the river.

All the kids ran there first, lighted their candles, and put them on the water. Soon, it was as though the water itself was shining as it leisurely flowed past the riverbank.

"Where you think they are all going?" Folco mused out loud.

"I don't know. Out of the Shire probably," Frodo answered.

"What do you think is out there?" Folco asked again. "Probably just wilderness, yes?"

"The wolves are out there," Frodo said in a whisper, and Folco, startled, bent his head close. "The wolves?" He echoed. "That's not true. They are just legends!"

Frodo was shaking his head. "My parents told me this story once. It happened a long, long time ago, but there was a terrible winter here in the Shire. Everything was frozen still; the trees, the ground, even the air! It was said that if you went out of your house, you'd become a statue of ice within seconds. Anyway, the River was frozen too. The waters were so still and hard that you could walk on them. And that's what the wolves did; they came from the outside, and the hobbits saw them and hid under the ground. But the wolves can sniff you out in a second, so it was useless."

Folco shivered. "And then?"

"And then… the wolves dug out the hobbits and ate them all!"

"My dear Frodo," came Merry's voice from behind them. Frodo and Folco jumped a little at his sudden apparition, but Merry was continuing: "If they ate us all, what are we still doing here, eh? We wouldn't exist if the wolves ate all our ancestors!"

Fatty was trailing behind Merry, a branch of grapes in his hand. "Merry's right," he agreed, "besides, why would they eat hobbits? We are too small. They should just go and eat the Big People outside."

"I think they would come here just for you, Fatty," Folco said seriously, staring at him until Fatty stopped chewing on the grapes and gulped.

Frodo crossed his arms. "Well, Merry, that's what my parents told me. You are not saying they are liars, are you?"

Merry froze for a second. "Well, grownups don't always tell the truth. They said there are bad things in the water too. Things that drag you down and kill you. And that's just not true."

"And how would you know that?" Frodo asked suspiciously.

"No, I think the adults are right about the water," Fatty intervened, eyeing the River darkly. "My cat almost drowned in it. It was as if something was dragging the poor thing down."

"That's just because you don't know how to swim," Merry countered. "Look, the river is no different from a pond, right? Well, I have been inside a pond! And here I am, all in one piece, still alive."

At this, there were several gasps. "Are you telling the truth?" Frodo demanded.

"Of course! I can even show all of you if you don't believe me."

"Did you do this with Pippin?" Frodo asked again.

Merry's eyes darted to him meaningfully. "Well… yes. Who else?" He saw Frodo's eyes narrow with understanding.

"She's really fearless, isn't she?" he muttered.

Folco heard him, and was puzzled. "She? Who are you referring to?"

Frodo lifted his head so fast his neck cracked. "Umm… there's… this… it's my dog."

"You have a dog?" Fatty quirked an eyebrow.

"Well, not mine exactly," Frodo backtracked, and knocked himself on the head internally for speaking out loud. "This neighbor's dog, actually. I saw her swimming in the pond once, and Merry's story just reminded me of her, that's all."

Folco made a noncommittal sound with his tongue, while Merry shook his head at Frodo. Why was his friend such a bad liar?

"Well, I'm not scared of wolves, nor of the water," Folco picked up the conversation from earlier. "Because wolves don't exist, and the river runs by our houses everyday and nothing bad ever happens. We even fish in it! There is only one thing in Buckland that is not a legend, and that is frightening for real."

The hobbits all exchanged a single glance of understanding. "The Old Forest," they whispered.

"That is not just stories," Folco nodded. "My Great-Aunt from my mother's side, she got lost in it, and she never came back."

"What was she doing, going inside?" Fatty exclaimed.

"Her husband was sick. She was looking for herbs in the dark, near the Forest. There is a hedge going around the Forest, as you all know, but everyone says that the Trees have made holes in it. The holes are scattered all over the place, and most of them are too small for a hobbit to pass, but some are big enough. Anyway, the Forest must have lured her in when she was too close to one of those openings in the hay."

"How can you even tell for sure?" Merry questioned, dubious. "Maybe it had nothing to do with the Forest. Maybe she just… ran away."

Folco eyed Merry patiently, as though talking to a newborn. "Why would she run away? She loved my Great-Uncle, and she was out looking for herbs to cure him. Her friend was in the cabin back home tending to her husband and waiting for her. There is no way she'd ever leave him just like that."

Merry made a sound with his tongue, but remained silent.

"I believe you," Frodo said. "I've seen the Hedge myself, from afar. It felt all wrong!"

"It's just trees however, at the end of the day. It's only scary because you don't know your way and you get lost in the Forest," Merry chirped up again, determined to stay by his beliefs till the end.

"They are not just trees," Fatty spoke up. "Haven't any of you heard? Apparently the trees are conscious, and their roots can move. You think you are following a path in the Forest, but the next second, there's no more path. That's how you get lost."

"Nonsense!" Merry snorted.

"You can say that because you've never seen the Forest up close," Frodo stated seriously. "Once you do, you will understand."

"I heard there is a gate from where you can enter the Forest," Folco whispered. "Why would they leave an opening like that? If we can go in, then… things can come out of it as well."

At this, they all shuddered; even Merry couldn't help it.

At that moment, a shadow approached them, and when it was close enough, they saw that it was Berilac. The hobbits didn't even know they were holding their breaths until the moment they let it go.

"What are you lads talking about?" the newcomer asked.

"The Old Forest," Fatty replied, before Merry could yell out "none of your business" like Fatty knew he would from the way he was getting all worked up.

"What? Why would you talk about that queer place?" he eyed all four hobbits suspiciously. "You aren't thinking of going in there, are you?"

Folco almost choked. "Of course not!"

Berilac somehow didn't look convinced. His stare lingered on Merry. "Well, good for you. But if I were you, I wouldn't hang around too much with this fellow – he pointed to Merry with his chin – he always gets crazy ideas. I wouldn't be surprised if one day he decides to go in there."

Merry, in fact, wouldn't be too much against the idea, but since everyone was now eyeing him with alarm, he quickly answered: "I wouldn't! There is no fun in that! But you all ought to feel ashamed of yourselves for being scared of a bunch of old trees!"

Fatty sighed. "Well, it's not like…" His gaze changed. "Oh, that's my sister there!" He lifted his arm and waved.

At those words, Merry suddenly looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Estella? Estella is here?" He clamped Fatty's mouth with his hand, but it was too late. Estella had spotted their group, and was now running towards them, a doll squeezed in her arms.

In the dark, they made out a little girl with curly brown hair and bright green eyes.

"Merry! Merry!" Estella screamed in delight before throwing herself against him and clinging to his arm. "Merry! I been looking for you all night!"

Merry knew it all too well because he had been trying to hide from her all night.

"Hello," he answered morosely, trying to peel her off him, but Fatty's careful gaze was on him. Fatty was really protective of his sister, and even though he was slow, Merry had no doubt that Fatty would have no trouble picking him up and throwing him quite a distance away if he ever got angered.

"Merry! Merry!" the young lass was now stuffing her doll in his face. "Look at what Frodo gave me! Isn't she pretty?"

It was the custom in the Shire to give away presents at one's own birthday.

Merry stared at what looked to his eyes like a hideous mass of fabric. "Yes, very," he said, and tried to take his arm back as gently as he could.

Berilac was silently making fun of his futile efforts; Estella was like a mollusk of some sort. Once she held on, she would never let go. Merry looked daggers at Berilac first, and then turned pleadingly towards Frodo. The latter sighed, and then fumbled in his pockets until he came up with a piece of candy. "Estella, do you want some? It is something sweet."

Estella shot him a careful glance before shaking her head furiously. "Merry! Merry! Merry!" She sang, reporting her attention back to the object of her affections.

Merry felt like dying. Of all the lasses he knew, she was the worst! Ever since they first met when his Father had gone to Budgeford in the East-Farthing for business, and had let Merry accompany him, Estella would always stick to him like glue whenever they saw each other.

Merry had been off playing when he had seen Estella crying in the middle of the fields after she had fallen down. He had gone to her to see what was wrong, and had seen a cut on her leg that was bleeding. He had helped her up, and had walked her home, and ever since that day, Estella thought of Merry as her personal hero. As for Merry, he really regretted helping her that day. He should have known that approaching a lass would be a bad idea!

Folco, Fatty, Frodo and Berilac were now watching them like they were enjoying some sort of show. Merry knew that help would not come from either of them. Some friends, really!

"Estella. Please get off me. Please?" His voice came out thin and desperate.

"Merry! When I grow up, I will marry you! Oh, you will let me marry you, won't you? Can I start calling you husband from now on?"

"NO!" Merry cried out in horror. "Just get off me already, you…"

Fatty cleared his throat.

"… you… you… little girl…" Merry finished weakly.

"You don't wanna marry me?" Estella looked up at him, and he could already see tears ready to pour out from those pools of green.

"How about this? I will tell you if you let me go."

Estella beamed and let him go at once.

Merry darted sideways so fast he almost fell over, and then broke into a run. He heard Estella crying out after him, and ran even faster. Why, that little demon! He didn't pride himself in running away from anything, but she was the only thing that scared the living wits out of him.

He finally stopped running when he was within sight of Brandy Hall, his house. He was barely starting to get his breath back when a shadow emerged in front of him.

"Frodo!" Merry shrieked. "For the sake of all that is good, why did you follow me here?"

He looked behind him, trying to see if there was a demon with green eyes following after him in the dark, but there was no one. Frodo also was trying to get his breathing back to normal, but it was more difficult for him because he couldn't stop laughing.

"It was a good excuse to get away from the party. Back home, my parents will want me to talk to all the guests again, and that is dreadfully dull," he finally answered.

Merry lied down on the grass and forced his heart rate to go back to normal.

"That little demon! Coming to me like this!" He muttered.

"Estella seems to like you a lot," Frodo teased. "What if she follows you for the rest of your life?"

Merry shivered at the mere thought. "I'd rather go into the Old Forest."

The two hobbits were now lying down, looking up at the stars and the half moon hanging there in the dark sky.

"Why didn't any of you help me back there?" Merry let out sulkily. "You should all be ashamed! You are not real friends! I bet Allie wouldn't have let me pending."

Frodo quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, trust me Merry, she would not have done a thing. I'm sure she would have enjoyed it more than the rest of us combined."

"That's not true!"

"Yes, it is!"

"Whatever! It sucks that she couldn't come to your birthday party."

Frodo sighed. "She would have made a mess out of the party, you know how she is. But I wish Robin could have come."

"Well, Allie told me their father is not working today because the Inn is closed, since everyone would be at your party. With their father home, they couldn't come."

"What is the deal with their father? Have you ever thought of finding out?"

Merry passed an arm underneath his head. "Not really. As long as she can play with us, I don't care. You know that rule number three, or something, is not to ask questions."

"I'm curious though," Frodo insisted. "Are you not? I saw their father once, at the inn, and he just looks… frightening."

Merry nudged Frodo's arm impatiently. "Don't tell me you want to go talk to him like you talked to Robin!"

Frodo blinked. "I would never do that! That would be an incredibly bad idea. It's different with Robin because he's a kid. But their father is an adult, and he does not seem too accommodating."

"Well, I'm glad you realize this," Merry relaxed again.

"There's always asking Robin and Allie directly," Frodo proposed instead.

Merry tensed again. "Frodo, I suggest you just let it go."

Frodo poked his friend. "This is not like you, Merry. Normally, you would be the first to propose that we find out their secret."

Merry was thoughtful. "I don't know. I guess… I just have a bad feeling about it. Remember that summer when I was really curious about the beehive? I wanted to find out what was inside, but I had a bad feeling about it. I ignored my guts, however, and poked at it anyway. And… well, you know the rest."

Frodo remembered that. Merry's face had been so swollen afterward that it had been barely recognizable. He chuckled at the memory.

"I get that same feeling with Allie and Robin and their father. Some things… you better just leave them be."

Frodo twisted his mouth. "What if..."

Merry's brown eyes fixed upon Frodo curiously. "What if…?"

Frodo had wanted to ask what if their bad feeling meant that something was wrong with Robin and Allie, but he thought better of it. He was just being silly. It must have been all that talk about the Old Forest.

"Never mind," he told his brown-haired friend.

Merry smiled. "I'm sure Allie set those rules for a reason. I enjoy being friends with her, and I don't want to ruin it."

Frodo looked upon Merry with astonishment. "I never thought I would hear you speak such words about a lass."

Merry seemed surprised for a second, like he did not know what Frodo was talking about. Then he shrugged. "Oh, I know. But Allie is different. I keep forgetting that she is a lass. She is just like you and me, isn't she?" He chuckled at this realization.

Frodo was pensive at this. Merry was right. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Allie was a lass. His mother had always taught him to be kind to girls, and Frodo had always applied what he had learned in the few instances where he did talk to them. But he realized that in front of Allie, he acted the way he did with Merry, Fatty and all his other friends. Sometimes, he even said not-so-kind things to her because she enjoyed so much to say or do things to make his blood boil.

That night, as he wandered back home after the party, he thought back to his conversation with Merry and realized that he couldn't let go of the matter of Robin and Allie's secret. If Merry didn't want to find out, then he supposed he was on his own.


	9. The Ferry

**The Ferry**

Fall passed, and winter came, along with the first snowfall.

One morning, as Allie opened her door, she was surprised to see that everything had turned silver white. It was like a giant white mantle had fallen over the world, covering the grass, the trees, the smials, everything.

She ventured outside a few steps, and tightened her used-up coat made of fox furs around herself. She jumped in the snow, marveling at the footsteps she left in her stead.

"Incredible!"

Mindless of the cold, she took a handful of snow and blew on it, watching as it flew away like silver powder.

That afternoon, Robin, Frodo, Merry and she played at waging war by throwing snowballs at each other from behind their snow forts. Afterward, as they let themselves fall on the snowy grounds, exhausted but exhilarated, their breaths coming out in foggy puffs, Allie couldn't help thinking that she really loved winter in the Shire. The snow managed to find a way inside her clothes no matter how tightly she wrapped herself in her coat, but she didn't mind it.

She rolled around in the snow, getting it all over her clothes and hair, and laughed as Robin quickly chastised her and started patting it off her, saying that she would catch a cold.

The days passed and Yule came. Everywhere, there were lights on the trees and the front yards. In the windowpanes of all the smials, colorful paper chains and funny-looking cardboard figures hung, making jingling sounds in the wind. A snowman stood guard proudly beside all the doors.

The night of 1 Yule, the hobbits from Bucklebury all gathered at the Bridge Inn to celebrate, while those living on Buck Hill flocked to Brandy Hall, where a big party would be held. Hot drinks were served and the smell of turkey cooking drifted out of every smial and every inn, floating in the cold air until far away into the fields.

On top of a hill that gave them view of the Bridge Inn, Allie and Robin sat huddled close to each other on a snow-covered boulder.

"It smells good!" Allie said, and her stomach grumbled.

Robin watched the streams of warm light flowing out from all the windows of the Inn, while sounds of laughter and song drifted from within its walls and reached all the way over to their ears. He couldn't help feeling jealous of them. He wanted to be in a warm place too, eating good food.

"Are you sure you don't want to go in? Father probably wouldn't mind. It is the night of Yule after all," Allie suggested cheerfully.

Their father had told her to stay home for the night, as usual, but he hadn't said anything of the like to Robin, which seemed like his way of giving permission.

Robin, however, was about to tell her that he'd rather stay with her, when he was struck with an idea.

"Wait here for a moment," he exclaimed as he ran down the hill, leaving deep traces in the snow.

Allie watched him go, his brown hat bouncing in the middle of all the white, and smiled. She saw him getting inside the Inn. Fifteen minutes or so later, he was out again, running back up the hill towards her with a package in his arms. When he got close, his cheeks red with cold, Allie smelled something wonderful. It was meat!

"You stole some food?" she cried out excitedly, tearing open the bag he was holding.

"Shhh!" Robin said, even though there was no one around. "I took it from the kitchens when no one was looking. That place is filled with food tonight!"

The turkey meat inside was still warm; Allie was already salivating. She didn't remember the last time she had meat!

Robin saw her staring at the food like a hungry wolf, and laughed. "Come on, why don't we get some firewood and get a fire started at home? Then we can eat this!"

Allie nodded enthusiastically, and putting her gloved hand in his as they started on their way home. Bucklebury village almost looked like a ghost town, as everyone was at home or in one of the Inns celebrating with friends and family.

Everywhere, the chimneys were working, and as the smoke rose up into the air, it seemed to get fixed in mid-air by the cold, forming gray immaterial columns above the round roofs.

Their smial was freezing cold as they opened the door and stepped inside. Robin quickly got a fire started in the fireplace while Allie rummaged in the drawers for a knife and some plates. She also managed to find a bag of dried cookies and put them on the table beside the meat.

Soon, a fire was springing into life in the hearth, and as Robin sat at the table with her, she gave him his share of the cookies and started cutting the meat ferociously in half. And then, finally, she dug in! The meat was still warm, and tender, and so tasty! Soon, her fingers and chin were running with grease and sauce. Robin also gulped down most of his portion eagerly, after which he left some for his sister, who took it gratefully and ate it down voraciously.

After they were done eating and had licked their fingers clean, they sat looking at each other for a moment, satiated and happy. There was presently a warm feeling in the air, and as the firewood crackled and then settled in a set of sparkles, Allie thought that this place finally felt like a nice cozy home. She didn't remember the last time she had felt this way.

"Let's stay together forever, Robin, no matter what happens," she said, feeling a bit drowsy.

Robin reached out to pet her head. "Of course, silly. You wouldn't get rid of me even if you tried."

Appeased by these words, she looked out of the window, and realized with a jolt of joy that it was snowing again. "Oh!" She quickly went to lean against the windowpane; the glass was cold against her palm, and when she took off her hand, there was a tiny hand print there. She giggled and quickly erased it with her fist.

The snowflakes were falling down silently outside, looking like big white swan feathers shimmering in the night.

Suddenly, something was being wrapped around her neck. Surprised, she twirled to find her brother dressing her up with a soft pink scarf.

"What's this?" she asked, delighted, running her fingers through the warm fabric.

"What kid doesn't have a scarf?" Robin was saying. "You play outside all the time. You have to keep yourself warm."

And indeed, a pleasant warmth was now engulfing her entire being, starting from her neck. She approached her brother and wrapped her tiny arms around him. Robin smiled and held her close to his heart; he needed to become stronger now in order to protect her.

"Merry Yule's night, Allie," he whispered into her wild hair.

Allie tightened her hold on him. "Merry Yule's night, Robin."

* * *

February was the coldest month of the year, Frodo had grumbled numerous times already, and although Allie didn't know it yet, she would soon come to experience the truthfulness of that first-hand.

For now, she was happily riding on a sledge down the snowy slopes of a hill far away from Bucklebury.

Frodo, Merry and Pippin, who had come to visit as promised, were with her, and so she couldn't ask for more. She had been delighted to see Pippin again, and as means of reunion, they had held on to each other for a long time while jumping happily in the snow.

The only downside was that her brother couldn't join them. The old Boffin had stated that it was too cold to be working at the market now, and had recruited Robin's help in the stables instead to take care of the ponies.

The sky was pale blue that day, and it was so cold that she felt the insides of her nose freezing every time she took a breath. She wrapped her pink scarf more tightly around her face and neck as a gust of wind carried up snowflakes off the ground.

"Come on, another round?" she yelled to the others.

"Yes!" Pippin agreed.

Pippin, Merry and Frodo were all engulfed in so many layers of clothing that they almost looked ball-shaped. Only their eyes could be seen from under their hats and above their scarves. It made their movements awkward, and so it always took them a long time to climb back up the hill while pulling the sledge.

Only this time, as they were trudging upwards in the snow, something happened.

Merry had his eyes to the ground, struggling with the front of the sledge, when a pair of legs blocked his advance. Lifting his head, he cried out and fell on his behind when he found himself staring straight into the brown eyes of Berilac.

"Berilac!" He cried out, half in surprise and half in alarm.

The other hobbits all marked a pause, and then Frodo and Pippin quickly stepped in front of Allie. But it was too late. Berilac had been observing them for a while now. His Uncle Saradoc had asked him to go find Merry, and he had asked a few kids in town where his cousin was. One of them had pointed him to this hill, and now here he was.

"What is this, Meriadoc? Are you actually playing with a lass?" His voice was full of sarcastic disbelief.

It was too late to pretend that Allie wasn't a lass, since her long curly hair was flowing out from under her hat and onto her shoulders.

Merry was shaking his head in alarm. "What are you _doing_ here?"

"What are _you_ doing?" Berilac bit back mockingly. "Wait until I tell the news to everyone! They will never forgive you for being two-faced!"

Merry was now trembling. He couldn't let that happen to his reputation.

"I am not a lass!" Allie spoke up desperately, trying to sound like a boy.

Berilac just eyed her, as though shocked she was actually speaking back to him. He then stepped over the snow to where she was and pulled off her hat in one swift movement, making her wild blonde curls explode outwards like a lion's mane.

"You are not a lass?" Berilac called out harshly. "You sure look like one and sound like one to me."

His eyes fell on her pink scarf. "And no boy would ever wear _that_!"

He reached towards it and tried to pull it off her too, but Allie's eyes hardened the second his hand touched her precious scarf. One instant later found Berilac sitting in the snow, staring up in anger and bewilderment at the girl who had just pushed him.

"Don't touch me!" she warned in a low voice.

"Did she just push me?" His voice was full of disbelief; he looked around at the three other boys, as though asking whether this was for real.

"Yes, I pushed you, you jerk," Allie replied in their stead, her eyes cold.

Berilac sprung back up on his feet, furious.

Frodo, the first one to recover from the unexpected episode, quickly interposed himself between them before things could turn ugly.

"Berilac, stop right this instant!"

"Why are you protecting _her_?" Berilac's anger was almost palpable now. "Who is she anyway? I have never seen her around before. Is she from Bucklebury?"

"You don't need to know that!" Young Pippin suddenly spoke up defiantly. "And what is so wrong with playing with a lass? You don't even know her!"

Berilac clenched his fists and then unclenched them. He turned towards Merry, who was still sitting on the snow and looking at the whole scene with wide eyes, and said accusingly: "You lads really shouldn't be like this to me. I'm going to tell everyone about you and her, and none of you will be able to stop me!"

He stomped away on the snow. At those words, Merry finally shook off his stupor. Springing forward, he threw himself on Berilac, pinning him face first into the snowy ground.

"You won't tell anything to no one!" he screamed.

Berilac pushed Merry off him and spat out the snow he had accidentally taken in. "Or what, Meriadoc? Do you think you can get away with making my Mom punish me for the blankets? I will get back at you for that! Big time!"

Merry pinned him down again. "You don't get it! Don't do anything foolish or Allie will be in trouble!"

Berilac eyed the girl. "Well, the better! She pushed me down! I will get back at her for that too, you better believe me!"

Pippin ran in front of him and spread his arms out. "If you want to go tell, you will have to go through me first!"

"You think that will stop me?" Berilac laughed out incredulously, and then slammed himself against Pippin. He was taller, and older, and so he overcame Pippin easily, making him fall face first in the snow. Merry pulled his cousin back angrily. "How can you do that to Pippin?"

"Why not?" Berilac shouted defensively. "I know he's the one's who's always with you when you play your tricks on me! What is he, your little servant?"

Frodo was now helping Pippin sit up, and Pippin struggled violently in Frodo's grasp when he heard the last words. "Why, you! I'm going to tell my Dad that you are a bully!"

Berilac seemed distressed for a second, before quickly recovering. "Do it then!" he challenged. "Do it, you little wimp! You can't do anything yourself so you go to your Papa?"

"He's the Thain!" Pippin persisted, his voice already thick with angry tears. "He will punish you like you deserve!"

"And do you think the Thain will be happy to have a coward for son? You…"

"Be quiet now, Berilac!" Frodo called out, feeling Pippin shaking badly in his arms. "You are going too far!"

"Stay out of this, Frodo. I have nothing against you. Don't turn me into your enemy too!"

"Merry and Pippin are my _friends_! If you insult them like this, I won't mind being your enemy, I'm telling you!"

Berilac gritted his teeth. "Don't regret this later."

"I won't." His blue eyes were steady, challenging.

Berilac turned quickly to look at Merry, who had silently glided behind him during the exchange. "What dirty tricks are you planning again, Meriadoc? Do you want to hit me in the back like the coward that you are?"

"You little pest!" Merry shouted.

Berilac sneered at him. "I should have known! Wimps are friends with other wimps!"

Merry felt his whole body trembling with rage. He heard Frodo calling out to him warningly, but it was too late. He had already bolted towards Berilac with the intention of punching him in the face, but his fist only connected with empty air. Berilac had backed off a few steps in the snow and was now pointing mockingly at him. Merry was about to lash out again, when Allie held him back by the waist. "Stop!" she yelled. "Stop it, Merry! Do you want to get in trouble?"

Merry thrashed in her grasp. "I don't care, Allie! I'm going to wipe that smirk off his face right now."

Allie refused to let go. Merry seized her hands and uprooted them from his waist.

"Allie, I'm doing this for you too! Won't you be in trouble if he walks away right now?" he whispered furiously in her face in a warm puff of breath.

"I know that! I know that, Merry, but _still_!"

Her voice, however, was rolling with barely suppressed anger. "I want to punch him too, but it won't do any good. Not this way!"

Merry calmed down only very slightly. "What do you want me to do then? Huh?"

"Why are you so weak, Merry?" Berilac taunted. "Even a lass can stop you now?"

Suddenly, Allie's irate gaze was upon him, causing his smirk to waver slightly.

"Lass this, lass that," she called out flatly. "What's so wrong with playing with a lass? You are calling other people cowards, but the biggest coward here is you!"

"How am _I_ a coward?"

"You are scared that you'd lose to a girl like me if we ever played together. You're scared to show how lacking you are!"

Berilac burst out laughing. "That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! Why don't you stop talking now and just go back to playing house and serving tea to dolls like you girls always do?"

Allie waited until his laughter receded. "I don't play house, and I don't serve tea to dolls. What kind of lame thing is that?"

Berilac just stared at her.

"I have seen the games you play, though," she continued with a mocking smirk. "Playing tag in the fields? Riding on pigs? Stealing crops from the farmers?"

Berilac blemished a little at the last mention. "How…?"

"Ha!" she cut him off viciously, her eyes hard. "Do you call that playing? Clearly you have no idea what daring really means!"

Berilac was truly upset now. Frodo, Merry and Pippin watched in silence, waiting to see where this would go.

"Let's make a deal," Allie dropped the words meekly, eyes never leaving his.

He huffed with a scorn. "I don't make deals with girls!"

"Are you that scared to even listen to what the deal is about?"

Berilac hated the way her eyes were mocking him, even though there was no trace of mockery in her voice.

"Fine! Spit it out!"

"Better still. Let me show you what it is. That is, if you dare to follow."

Her eyes nagged him one last time before she picked up her hat that had been lying half buried in the snow all this time; she shook it against her leg, put it back on her head, and left in direction of Bucklebury, not bothering to look back to see who was following.

But they all did follow her; Frodo first, then Merry and Pippin, and finally Berilac closing the line, dragging his feet and mumbling under his breath.

"What do you think she's doing?" Merry whispered.

"I don't know, but it should be good!" Pippin whispered back, eyes glinting with anticipation.

Only Frodo noticed the slight trembling of her hands as she had picked up her hat. He knew a lot more was riding on the line for her than she had let it appear. He really wondered what on earth she was up to, going back to the village now that there were so many hobbits about.

However, she did not go into the village. Instead, she led them to the banks of the Brandywine, where she turned and waited for them to catch up. When they did, she started walking along the riverside, eyes darting around, making sure there was no hobbit in sight.

In fact, during the winter, few people approached the River, for there was no fish to catch, and the waters made threatening noises as they lapped up against the bank. The water was so cold that a few blocks of ice could be seen floating amid the currents, shimmering a little under the weak rays of the winter sun.

"Where are we going?" Berilac grumbled. "Are you just going to walk around all day and hope that you can run away when the night falls? Well, tough luck. No matter what, I've already made up my mind to tell everyone about Merry playing with you. This is revenge for everything you've ever done to me. Nothing will make me back off. Nothing!"

Allie turned around, bearing her placid gaze upon him. "You already agreed to the deal. Don't forget that. And we're here."

They all looked around. They were at a part of the River that was close to the Bridge Inn. Merry shot her a nervous glance. What was she doing here? Her father was just a few yards away.

"So what?" Berilac spat out, at the end of his patience.

"The deal is this," she started, ignoring his outburst, "if I do something that you consider to be daring, you will keep your mouth shut about me forever, and never bother any of us again."

"So? What is this "daring" thing?"

He looked around, at the cold waters running by, and couldn't help but feel some alarm growing in the pit of his stomach.

Then Allie pointed in front of her, where the raft was tied to the pier, knocking against it every now and then.

"We will steal the raft, and ride on it."

There was a moment of shocked silence.

"What?" Berilac finally exploded, "that is insane! The ferry only works in the summer because it's too dangerous in the winter. And did you say _we_?"

A smirk of satisfaction was painting itself on her lips. "Yes, _we_. Just in case you run off while I'm riding on it. And just in case you go back on your word and try to get around the deal by pretending this isn't daring enough for you. Well, you won't be able to lie if you do it yourself first-hand. With me. Are you scared now? Then why don't you go back and ride on your pigs?"

Berilac was now eyeing the other three with a gaze that was asking whether she was for real, but they were all as shocked as he was.

Frodo was beside her now, grabbing her arm. "Have you lost your mind?" he whispered rapidly, "this is too dangerous! There is no way you are doing this!"

Allie slowly freed her arm. "There is no other choice. This is the only thing I could think of. I need to make him keep him mouth shut about me, and he won't ever stop with his attitude unless I show him what I'm capable of."

"There are other ways!" Frodo insisted.

Allie ignored him and walked to Berilac instead, who stepped back uncertainly.

"This is crazy," he mumbled.

"Are you saying that you are scared? A girl is not scared, but you are?" She huffed. "Merry, you will have a really good story to tell from now on."

She then walked towards the pier, alone.

Berilac was breathing in and out quickly, his palms sweaty in spite of the cold. Merry also thought it was a dangerous thing to do, but he couldn't bear missing this opportunity to have the upper hand against Berilac on this matter once and for all.

Frodo came to him. "What are you doing, Merry? Say something! Stop her! She will listen to you!"

Merry looked at her retreating back hesitantly.

"Why stop her?" Pippin chirped up excitedly. "This is brilliant! If Berilac doesn't follow, he will be a coward. And if he does, then he will be agreeing to her deal. Either way, he won't be able to talk about her to others. It's like killing two stones with one bird!"

"I think you mean killing two birds with one stone, Pip," Merry sighed, but he was now nodding in agreement.

"No, lads, _no_! You can't let her do this!" Frodo insisted again.

However, Merry and Pippin were not paying any attention to him anymore, because Berilac had made up his mind was now running after Allie, towards the pier.

"I will do it," he told her in a shaky voice upon catching up to her, but his eyes were firm.

Allie nodded. "It's a deal then."

"Yes, it is."

Allie then faced the raft, took a deep breath, and stepped down on it from the platform. It rocked a little, but overall, it remained pretty stable. She made a few careful steps around, and looked at the foam that had formed around the edges.

Berilac watched her intensely, and seeing that nothing bad was happening to her, felt a little more calm. He could do this.

"Untie the rope," she told him while taking hold of the long oar.

Berilac swallowed, hard, and then started fumbling with the snarl of rope on the post. When finally it came undone, the rope glided into the water without a sound. Allie's eyes darted everywhere nervously, but nothing was really happening.

"Well," she said, "what are you waiting for? Come on board."

Berilac now looked really scared; he could feel his knees buckling and his ears ringing as he looked down at the dark menacing waters and at the blocks of ice floating near the middle of the River.

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. "Berilac, don't do this." It was Frodo. "And you, Allie, come back here right now! This is enough!"

Berilac tried very hard not to nod at Frodo's words. Allie's expression was impassive as she simply waited. Finally, realizing that she wouldn't listen to Frodo, Berilac held his breath as though he was going to plunge under water and then jumped onto the raft. The movement caused it to rock a little more, and immediately, Berilac threw himself down, screaming as he held on to the wood.

Merry and Pippin were clinging to each other with both wonder and fear in their eyes, as they stood behind Frodo and watched. The latter could only stare, helpless, as Allie lifted the oar and pushed the raft away from the pier.

To her surprise, it was pretty stable in the current as they slowly started gliding down the River. The oar was inserted into a hole at the side of the raft and felt heavy and big in her hands. She tried rowing in random directions until the raft finally started to slowly move towards the opposite shore.

Berilac was still crouched on the floor of the ferry, with his head in his hands, shaking like a leaf.

"Look around, silly!" she called out to him. "This is not something you will see every day!"

Finally, Berilac lifted his head, and she saw that he'd been crying. His eyes were red and some tears still clung to his cheeks, already freezing under the cold. He tried to glare at her and only managed to look even more scared.

She sighed and reported her attention back on the scenery unfolding all around her. As far as the eye could see, there was water and ice. The River stretched into the horizon on her right, like a moving silver band; behind her, she could hear Merry and Pippin cheering, throwing their hands into the air as their raft moved steadily towards the other shore. Every time the raft rocked, a ball of fear ignited in her chest, but dissipated into adrenaline when nothing happened and they continued their course.

Finally, Berilac shakily stood on his feet and clung to a wooden support in the middle of the raft, probably serving as a seat, and started to look around as well. Progressively, the fear in his eyes got replaced by awe.

He looked back to the shore and realized how distant Frodo, Merry and Pippin now appeared.

"We should not go too far…" he spoke up uncertainly, his voice almost drowned out by the wind.

Allie remained silent; she agreed internally, but she couldn't seem to find a way to turn the thing around. Upon realizing this, a chill settled down in her chest, but she didn't let Berilac know.

Time ticked by, and their course remained slow but steady. Berilac ended up realizing that nothing bad would happen, which caused him to become more and more daring as he took in the scenery around him. "This is amazing!" he was shouting now, still clinging to the seat. "This is the most fantastic view I have ever seen! I never thought the River could look this way!"

As the late-afternoon sun fell on the ice and the water, the whole panorama shimmered and glittered like silver glass.

Allie, however, was not listening to him. She had finally figured out how to row backwards, and they were now heading back towards their side of the shore again. She let out a discreet sigh of relief.

Suddenly, without warning, the oar was ripped from her hands by an exuberant Berilac. His brown eyes shone with wild fire as he pushed her behind him and started to work the oar by himself. Allie arched an eyebrow, and then reluctantly taught him how to row properly in order to keep their course straight. Berilac didn't look at her once, but he listened to her carefully and applied dutifully what she was telling him. Soon, their raft was rapidly gliding back towards the pier.

"I can't believe I never thought of doing this before!"

Allie thought about reminding him of how much of a wimp he looked at the beginning, but decided against it at the last minute, and let him do as he pleased. She retreated back towards the center to hold on to the post. "Don't forget about our deal," she stated simply.

Berilac stole a brief glance at her before reporting his gaze to the oar. "I know. Whatever you say."

She let herself sit against the wood post and relaxed, reassured by his words. She had been so nervous ever since Berilac had popped out of nowhere to surprise them. Now that the weight was off her shoulders, she finally found herself really enjoying the view and feeling proud of what she had accomplished with the raft. She couldn't wait to do this again with Merry and Pippin! And Frodo too, she supposed.

Berilac, in the meantime, was looking at her profile from the corner of his eye. Her blond curls cascaded down her coat from underneath her hat, and her mouth was half hidden by the pink scarf loosely wrapped around her neck. She was looking in front of her, and her gray eyes were clear and pensive, almost innocent, he thought, when they were not throwing daggers at him. She was hugging her legs to her chest as she pressed her back against the post. Her cheeks were reddened by the cold wind, and there was still snow on her hat.

She felt him watching her and raised her eyes to meet his. Berilac swiftly dropped his gaze; his hands slid up and down the oar, betraying his nervousness as he blushed.

"What is it?" he heard her ask. "You are not thinking of playing some trick on me, are you?"

He sighed. "I wasn't thinking of anything of the sort! I know Merry has been talking bad about me, but I don't just play tricks on folk all the time, you know?"

She shrugged. "If you say so."

"It's the truth," he retorted.

She saw him clenching the oar with his lips pursed stubbornly, and smiled a bit. "What do you have against girls anyway?"

"They…they are just…." Berilac frowned. Why indeed? He had never truly talked to one before today, but he just looked down on them because they cried all the time, and always ran to their parents whenever he teased them a little. That invariably caused him to get punished.

"See? You can't even say what you don't like about them!" Allie exclaimed. "You shouldn't go around being mean to girls for no reason."

Berilac had the decency to look sorry for a moment. "Well, whatever, I admit that you are not as weak as the other girls. Are you happy now?"

Allie saw that his cheeks were turning red. It must have taken him a lot of pride to admit that. She supposed she could accept it then. "Yes, I guess I am."

The shore was only a few meters away now. She saw Frodo still staring at them anxiously, and shook her head at his worrywart attitude.

Merry and Pippin, on the contrary, were waving at them with both arms, and Berilac and she waved back.

"What's your name anyway? And where do you come from?" Berilac asked after a while, finally failing to contain his curiosity.

"I'm Allie. I just moved to Bucklebury."

It took Berilac a moment to make the connection. "You mean you are… you mean you came from Bree? You are with that family from Bree?"

Allie nodded, and he almost dropped the oar. "What? But I have never seen you around! I thought it was just them father and son."

"I didn't want to be seen," she replied vaguely, and glared.

"Umm, right."

Berilac was openly staring at her again, as though the sight of her was something exotic to him. When she glared back annoyingly, he quickly dropped his gaze and blushed again.

On the shore, Frodo was now waving frantically at them. Allie couldn't help smiling at his antics. What was he doing? He was screaming something too, but it was hard to make out because it had gotten windy. Merry and Pippin were suddenly by his side, and they were frantically pointing at something as well.

"What are they doing?" Berilac mocked. "Are they jealous they couldn't come on board?"

Allie frowned and looked towards where they were pointing. Her eyes widened when she saw a huge block of ice floating down the current towards them rapidly.

Before she could raise the alarm, it collided against the side of the raft. And neither of them was prepared for it.

The shock sent her sprawling on the floor of the raft, and it sent Berilac flying overboard to fall into the dark freezing water of the River.

The sound of the splash made her heart stop beating for a second. She then rushed to the side of the raft on all fours. "Berilac!"

Her eyes frantically searched the waters, her heart hammering harder and harder when there was no sight of him whatsoever. "Berilac!" she screamed again.

And finally, he re-emerged out of the water, flapping his arms weakly without a sound. Allie extracted the oar from the side of the raft and extended it down to him with effort. "Grab it!"

Berilac grabbed onto it, pressed down on it and managed to lift his head out of the water a little. His teeth were chattering wildly. Allie pulled the oar back towards her with all her strength.

She was now close enough to the shore to hear the panicked cries of her other friends calling out to her and Berilac. She glanced briefly towards them and saw that only two meters separated the raft from the shore.

Berilac was rapidly losing strength because of the cold. Suddenly, he let go of the oar and plunged once more under water.

"Berilac!" she shrieked again. In a moment of panicked clumsiness, she let go of the oar and it fell into the water, floating away.

"No!" she screamed and tried to reach it, but it was too late. Her hands were now so close to the edge of the raft that water from the river lapped onto them. She felt the bite even though she was wearing gloves.

Berilac's head was up again, and he was struggling weakly a meter or so from the raft. "He…help!" he managed to cry out.

Allie didn't allow herself to think any further; she just took a deep breath and dived in.

The cold took her breath away and almost stopped her heart. For a moment, she couldn't even think, as a veil of blackness fell in front of her eyes. A moment later, she was paddling like a maniac, not worrying about not having yet perfected her swimming skills, not worrying about where the raft was, only thinking about moving her limbs to warm herself up. And where was Berilac? There, in front of her!

All the clothes she was wearing were weighing down on her like bags of lead, but she struggled against them and paddled to where Berilac was. She seized him by the collar of his coat and started paddling sideways back towards the raft, whimpering with the effort and the cold.

All the while, she felt as though needles were being stuck into her skin. It was so cold that it burned.

Finally, the raft was there! "Cl-climb up," she ordered as she pushed him up. Berilac grabbed the edge weakly, and then put a leg on it. The raft pitched dangerously, threatening to turn over, but Allie pushed him with all the strength she could muster, and he finally managed to roll up on it, lying in a dripping, immobile and shivering mass on the wood.

Allie seized the edge and tried to climb up on it herself. Because Berilac's weight was now on it, it didn't pitch as much when she tried to pull herself up. It took her a long and seemingly endless time to hoist herself up, for her limbs were stiff and numb. But finally, she did it.

However, being out of the water was not a relief, for the cold wind bit at her wet clothes and skin, and somehow it was worse than being in the water. Her teeth were chattering helplessly, and she couldn't stop shaking. Berilac was now lying on his side, throwing out water out of his mouth, and shaking even more than she was.

She wanted to crawl to him to make sure he was all right, but it was as though she had been frozen on the spot. A terrible image came to her mind: maybe all the water on her would freeze, sticking her to the raft forever like a statue of ice. And speaking of the raft, it was still floating aimlessly. She couldn't even lift her head to see where they were going.

She had never been so cold in her entire life. It was like torture.

Suddenly, she thought she heard voices from somewhere; they seemed to come from far, far away, as if across a foggy land. She drifted in and out of consciousness, for she couldn't even faint completely because of how violent her spasms were.

She didn't know for how long she stayed like that, moaning quietly, until a sputter of voices suddenly erupted so close to her ears that they sent a jolt through her head. The raft was pitching wildly now, and cracking her eyes open a slight, she blurrily perceived frantic movements all around her.

Then, someone wrapped a blanket around her and she was being carried up.

Up into somebody's arms.

More pitching now, but of a different sort. At first she couldn't even feel the warmth of the blanket around her, but as the pitching continued, accompanied by the lapping of water, the burning feeling of coldness slowly receded, and numbness seized her entire being.

And finally, unconsciousness claimed her.

* * *

"What on earth were you kids doing by the River? How many damn times did I warn you not to come close to it?" a fat hobbit was yelling at the top of his lungs, spitting everywhere. "And now what? You did what? You _stole_ the ferry?

"Now is not the time, Mosco!" Primula was saying, highly exasperated, while Frodo, Merry and Pippin were all trying to hide behind her, frightened.

The boat was now approaching shore, and Primula hurried to hold on to the side of the boat as her husband handed a bundle of blankets to another hobbit standing nearby.

"Are the children all right?" she asked anxiously, peeling off the blanket and revealing Berilac's face, blue from the cold.

"I don't know," Drogo muttered while lifting up the bundle of blankets that was Allie, and then stepping off his boat. "I'm just glad we came in time after Frodo came looking for us."

"Allie…" Pippin whimpered miserably.

"Is she alive? Why isn't she moving?" Merry cried out, wringing his coat.

"She has lost consciousness, but she should be all right once her parents take her home. Who is she? Where does she live?"

Frodo and Merry exchanged a quick look. "She lives kind of far. Dad, why don't we take her home first?"

Drogo eyed his son calmly, and Frodo returned his gaze as steadily as he could. Finally, Drogo nodded in assent.

At this moment, Merry's parents and Berilac's parents came running to the riverside; Merimac, Berilac's father, immediately snatched his son from the other hobbit's arms. "Berilac? Berilac! Why isn't he moving? What happened to my son?"

"He fell into the river! You better take him home first, Merimac," Drogo urged. "Primula, go look for the healer."

Primula ran off as fast as she could without a word.

Frodo bent his head close to Merry's: "Go look for Robin. Tell him what happened and bring him to my house." He looked at the chaos around. "Go now, before they see you leaving."

Merry was wide-eyed, but nodded nonetheless and did as he was told.

Pippin was still hovering around Drogo, anxious to see Allie. "Is she going to die?" he whimpered again.

"No son, she is going to be fine. Why don't you go home for now? Go back to Brandy Hall with Merry. Where is Merry?"

He looked around, but Frodo pulled on the furs of his coat. "Come on, Dad. Let's bring her home now."

Merimac and Saradoc were already leaving towards Brandy Hall. "Go with them, Pip," Frodo told him quietly.

Pippin protested vividly. "I can't! What if something happens to Allie?"

"Nothing will. Trust me Pip. Just go home for now. I will take care of the rest."

Pippin finally nodded reluctantly and ran to catch up with Saradoc's company.

Drogo, carrying Allie in his arms, started to walk back to his Smial at a brisk pace, with Frodo trailing behind him and running a little in order to catch up. Some hobbits followed them, but Drogo sent them back with a wave of his hand.

"Pull my boat out of the water, please," he asked of them.

And then he was gone from sight, stepping over the snow.

When they got back to their smial, Drogo asked a very anxious-looking Frodo to rekindle the fire in the hearth, and Frodo was glad to have something to keep him occupied.

In the meantime, Drogo laid Allie down on the couch. The blankets were already soaked. He ran to the bedroom to get dry ones, and then crouched down in front of the unconscious lass.

"Is your mother not back yet?"

Frodo looked around. "No."

Drogo fumbled a moment with the blankets, before covering up the girl's body with them. He then started to get her out of her wet freezing coat and clothes from underneath the blanket. He did it as fast he could, trying not to look, and then wrapped a big shower towel around her naked body. He also massaged her hair to get it dry.

The fire was now crackling and sizzling, spitting out red sparkles as the wood burned. Drogo carried Allie in front of the hearth and lied her down on the carpet. He noted with worry that she was burning with fever.

Frodo crouched down beside his dad and eyed the hobbit girl worriedly. He didn't waste time asking whether she would be fine, because obviously none of them knew.

At that moment, Primula came hurrying back with an old hobbit with a thick black beard.

"Mr. Hob!" Drogo cried out in relief.

He shared a quick, intimate glance with his wife, and then guided the healer to the girl.

Hob touched her forehead briefly and grunted. "This one looks worse off than the lad I just left. Seriously, kids these days! But you did well in getting her dry."

"Can you do something to relieve the fever?" Drogo inquired.

Hob rummaged through his saddlebag and came up with a bottle of herbs. Looking at Primula, he said: "Boil these in water, and give it to her to drink three times per day. And always keep her warm. When she wakes up, make her drink a lot of hot fluid, and eat something hot too. She might not want to, but she must. Really, kids these days. Do they want to throw their lives away? Messing around in the River, really. Trouble is what you get out of that."

Allie was now breathing laboriously, and sometimes a shiver would run through her. Frodo watched over her with wide eyes. The healer was now standing up with difficulty, holding his back. He rearranged his coat around himself.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Hob!" Primula said sincerely.

"Don't mention it, dear. If something happens, don't hesitate to call for me."

"Be careful on your way back," Drogo added as the older hobbit was stepping through the door.

He hadn't left for two minutes yet when the door flew open again, and Robin came hurtling in, followed closely by an anxious-looking Merry.

"Allie!" Robin cried out upon seeing her still form on the floor. "Allie! What happened to you?" He rushed to her side and started shaking her. "Allie! Wake up! It's me, Robin! Wake up!"

Drogo quickly restrained him back. "Don't shake her like that, lad. She needs to rest. She will be just fine. We will give her some medicine soon, when she comes to."

Drogo's hold on him slackened when Robin turned two ferocious eyes towards him and glared at him with anger.

"What have you done to her? Why is she like this? Why?"

Frodo forced Robin to face him, and said: "She fell into the river! My dad saved her!"

"What?" Robin was now dismayed, looking from Drogo to Frodo uncertainly. Frodo's father gave him a reassuring smile and asked gently: "Is she your sister?"

Robin stood still for a moment, before giving a stiff nod. Primula put a hand on his shoulder gently. "You said your name was Robin? Well, Robin, your sister is safe here. Come now, take off your coat and have some hot chocolate. It will calm you down."

Robin stared up into her gentle blue eyes, and felt a comforting warmth envelop him in spite of himself. "Okay," he grumbled, suddenly feeling shy and ashamed of his earlier outburst.

Drogo turned towards Merry. "You should go back home for today, son. Your dad was looking for you."

Seeing that he was throwing glimpses at Allie, he smiled. "She will be fine. Don't worry."

Frodo went to see Merry out, thanking him quietly before he closed the door.

"Are you the son of that hobbit who moved to Bucklebury a few months ago?" Primula asked Robin gently, and Robin couldn't help but to tell her the truth with a nod of assent.

"I didn't know you had a sister. No one said anything about her," Frodo's mother pondered.

Robin just shrugged. "She hasn't been going out a lot."

"Well, we should probably go look for your father. He must be worried," Drogo remarked.

Frodo and Robin exchanged a quick glance. "Dad, it's too late. Can't she stay here for the night? Maybe she will feel all better tomorrow morning," Frodo proposed uncomfortably.

Robin, however, was wringing his hands and glaring at Frodo over his cup of hot chocolate, intimating him to be quiet. Frodo caught his gaze and fell silent.

Frodo's dad frowned upon hearing his son's words. "Well, we can't do that. Her father will be wondering where she is. And since she's sick, I'm sure she will want to be home when she wakes up."

Robin felt a turmoil of distress descend upon him as he wondered what he should do. If she didn't go home that night, their father would go berserk wondering why she had been out again. But if they brought her back now… yes, if they brought her back now, maybe they had a chance! Marroc must still be working. If they hurried, he could just pretend that she fell ill during the day. Yes.

"Please, sir!" he spoke up, looking at Drogo earnestly. "I want to thank you for saving my sister, and I'm sorry for my behavior from earlier."

Drogo smiled warmly. "Don't mention it. I understand how worried you must have been."

"Yes, well. I was wondering whether you could help us get her back to my smial? Like you said, she will want to be home when she wakes up. And dad will be worried if he comes home tonight and doesn't see her. So, can we please hurry and bring her back?"

"Of course. Let's wait for her coat to dry. I will bring her back then."

"No!" Robin cried out. "No. Let's go back as soon as possible. Please? Frodo, can you just let her borrow some of your clothes? I'll bring them back to you tomorrow, I promise."

Frodo nodded immediately, and went to the closet in his room from where he took out a pair of pants and a shirt, along with an old coat that was now too small for him, but that should fit Allie.

Drogo and Primula, meanwhile, were exchanging a puzzled look, until Primula signaled to her husband to just indulge the boy. Primula then went into the bedroom to dress Allie up. When she came out with the girl in her arms, her expression was worried. She whispered to Drogo that her fever seemed worse now, and Drogo whispered back that it was all the more reason to get her back to her family.

They all put on their coats, but to Frodo's disappointment, Drogo intimated him to stay home and go to bed. Frodo protested a few times, but Drogo told him he didn't have time to worry about him while he carried the lass back. Finally, Frodo gave up and went into his room, brooding.

Drogo then lifted Allie onto his back, and Primula draped a blanket over the both of them and put one hand on the girl's back to keep her steady. After stepping out of the house, Robin led the way silently. It was dark and cold, and the hobbits marched quickly down the road and into the village with the snow crunching underneath their feet with each step they took.

They finally reached the smial at the edge of the village, and Robin hurried to open the door, peering inside with his heart pounding; but to his big relief, the house was deserted. He turned back towards the two adults. "In here!"

Drogo was about to step in when a voice suddenly rose up behind their backs. "Who are you folk?"

They turned around, and there came Marroc, a lamp in his hand and a frown on his face. His eyes widened upon seeing Robin, and he almost dropped his lamp when he recognized Allie on Drogo's back.

His eyes darted between all of them, but his face remained impassive. Primula noticed with a frown that Robin was now trembling like a leaf, his knuckles white as he clenched the door.

"What happened, Robin?" Marroc asked him, and the gentle concern in his voice gave his son goosebumps, for he knew his father was boiling with rage underneath his calm exterior.

"D-Dad," Robin stuttered. "Dad, I can explain."

Primula stepped forward. "Ah, you must be the children's father? Hi, nice to meet you, I'm Primula."

Marroc shook her hand, and then went on to shake Drogo's as well. He then rushed to Allie's side and wordlessly took her bundled shape in his thin arms, getting her off Drogo's back. "What happened to her? Why is she like this?"

"I don't want to alarm you too much, sir, but she fell into the River a while ago, and now has a high fever. But let's all go inside and talk. It's cold out here."

Marroc, however, was already inside, with Allie in his arms and Robin behind him. "I'm so thankful that you have been showing so much concern for my daughter. But please, we should talk another day. I think I better put her to bed and make sure she gets better first."

His black eyes looked sincere, and only Robin knew how much effort he was putting forth right now in order to smile like he was.

Drogo and Primula, however, were nodding at his words. "You are right," Drogo was saying, "we will leave then. Nice meeting you!"

Primula handed him the bottle of herbs and explained to him how to boil them and feed them to the girl. Marroc listened patiently, nodding every now and then to show his understanding.

"Thank you then. And good night," he finally said.

"Good night," Frodo's parents answered.

Marroc made sure they had disappeared into the night before pushing the door closed behind him as a grim and menacing look steadily crept into his features.

* * *

_Alright that's it folks. Do people not read LOTR fics anymore or what? Seems kinda dead in here._

**FreakyFantasy:** thanks for the review! :) Well, there is one thing I can tell you... I think this is going to be a pretty long fic. I haven't gotten to the main point yet lol =)


	10. Change

**Change**

Allie couldn't tell with absolute certainty whether she was dreaming or already half awake. It seemed that she knew where she was (in her smial), but she could hear many voices shouting all around her: the voices of her brother, and of her father, and other voices that she could not recognize. They were all screaming inside her head. And why was it so cold?

The shivers that ran like mad through her entire body were what pulled her out of unconsciousness at last. She opened her mouth a little and tried to moisturize her dry lips. It felt like there was a sandbag in her mouth.

Water.

Every movement felt like it would take her forever to complete. It was as though she was living in slow motion. She rolled onto her side and opened her eyes; her vision swam, went out of focus, into focus again.

What time was it? It seemed like it was light outside. But light wasn't welcome. It made her skull want to explode; in fact, her head felt like it was pulsing like some giant organ. In and out, swelling, retracting.

And then there was a brusque movement right in front of her, followed by the vivid breaking of porcelain on the hard floor. She blinked slowly until the scene in front of her eyes finally regained perfect focus.

It took her a moment to make sense of it, but when it did, she felt like throwing up.

Marroc was beating Robin to the ground. He was on top of him, and his fists were raining down on the small crouched form of her brother. Robin had his arms raised to protect his face, sobbing and whimpering and begging.

But Marroc seemed like he had gone beyond all reason. He was crying out savagely, in pure anger, and hit Robin again and again. There was a smell of alcohol in the air too.

Allie lied there, breathing heavily, wondering why this was happening. The events from before she lost consciousness slowly regressed back into her mind, one scene revealing itself after the other, like a movie being rewound. And finally, she remembered it all, and she knew what it all meant. Everyone in the village now must know about her. In spite of being aware of that, she couldn't make herself care about the fact that she had blown it. She didn't have enough mental energy to feel anything but apathy at the whole situation. She even wished they would take the beating somewhere else, for her eyelids were heavy, and she wanted to sleep.

In fact, she would have just done just that if not for something on the floor that attracted her attention. She could literally feel her pupils dilating as she recognized what it was. _Blood_.

Her gaze shifted upwards again, and she saw the red liquid drifting down her brother's face, from his nose. It ran down his chin and drop by drop, fell into a red puddle underneath his huddled form.

She felt as though she was going to be sick. As she looked around sloppily, she realized that everything around her was turning red, as though a red veil of silk had fallen in front of her eyes. She blinked, and felt something stirring at the back of her mind.

A memory.

Her vision became blurry until red was all she could see.

There was a body underneath her, still soft, still warm, with its arms wrapped around her so tight that it hurt. And there was red in front of her eyes… she could feel it all over her face, so much red.

_And there was shouting all around her, cries of fear and alarm._

_The sound of quick footsteps as some people ran towards her and others away from her._

She seized her head in both hands and screamed.

Everything stopped.

Slowly, she opened her eyes again and saw that her vision was back to normal. The furniture was of the right color. The floor was of the right color. And Marroc's dark face as he looked at her was of the right color too.

Her scream had distracted him from the beating he was giving his own son, and now he was looking at Robin's bloody nose and chin, and had backed away, trembling slightly, whether in rage or guilt, she could not tell. Robin immediately crawled away from him, heart wrenching sobs tearing up his throat.

Marroc glanced at the blood, stunned, and then his fists shook. "Look at what you've made me do!" he screamed in Allie's direction, his eyes bulging out crazily.

Robin also watched his sister, and she was shocked to see that there was accusation behind his tears, like he was saying this was all her fault too. And in a way, she knew that it was. If only she had stayed inside quietly… if only she hadn't brought her brother into all this… if only…

"I should beat you up instead!" Marroc growled and in two steps he was standing over her.

Allie closed her eyes and just waited for it to happen.

The first slap connected with her cheek, but she stayed still and didn't make a sound. Her head was killing her so much more than the slap that her father had given her. And she was so tired. Was there no way to make this stop? Enough already, enough.

"Take this… and this! "Marroc said as his hand connected with her face again and again. "How dare you disobey me? How dare you announce your presence to the whole place like this? I knew this would happen. You little wrench! Why do you keep poisoning my life? WHY?"

Finally, Allie opened her eyes and rolled away from him, evading his hands. She stumbled to her feet, taking support on the nearby wall, and stood facing him, breathing laboriously.

"Stop hurting me."

Marroc's black eyes turned even darker. "What did you just say?"

Allie gulped saliva down her dry throat, and said hoarsely: "I said, stop hurting me."

"Who do you think you are? Are you talking back to your father now?"

"Yes! I'm talking back to you. Stop hurting me and my brother! Just stop!" she yelled out the last words shrilly.

Marroc went to seize her by the hair. "Are you delusional right now? Are you not in your right mind?"

Yes, she did feel delusional right now. She was definitely not in her right mind. She felt like she was floating between nightmare and reality. She was burning up.

"The whole village knows about me now. Do you really think it's a good idea if you continue to beat me?" she shouted to her father's face. "Folk will see, and folk will talk! If you don't like it when they talk, you better stop everything right now!"

Marroc's face went white with anger, and he clamped a hand around her throat, as though he wanted to strangle her.

"Why don't you just kill me then?" she hissed, her eyes so wide that her gray pupils seemed small in all the white. "Kill me and get it over with. I could care less. But if you want to hit me, you're doing something really foolish. The other adults will not be clueless. They will know immediately what's going on without neither Robin nor I saying anything, and you would have brought all of it onto yourself! So go ahead and hit me now. Hit me more!"

Marroc was fuming so much that all his thin limbs were trembling. He looked like he could murder his own daughter for real right there and then. His fist was already raised, but Allie was just staring hard into his eyes, breathing with difficulty, and Marroc was suddenly scared out of his mind at the crazy look in her eyes. He threw her down on the floor, hard, and there she stayed, heaving.

"You insolent piece of dirt! You think you will get away with this? You are losing it if you think I will not make your life hell starting from today!"

Allie lifted her head and looked at him from behind her wild curls, coughing up a wretched and sarcastic laugh. "Hell? I'm already living in hell. And _you_ are the crazy one. You shouldn't have confined me in this house. This whole thing happened because of _you_. You wanted to be normal here, but do you really think folk will think you are normal when they find out how you have been keeping me in this house like an animal? You are deluded if you think that no one will ever find out, if you think you can just hide me here until one of us dies! If you had let me out from the very beginning, then…" she had to stop to regain her breath. Sparks flew at the edge of her vision.

Marroc dug his nails into his palms, and stood there, seething at what she was saying. He wanted to beat her to death, but now that she had said all those things that actually made sense, he didn't dare to anymore.

"It's all your fault, _father_," she continued after she had regained her breath. "But it's all over now. I will be going out every day from now on and you can't stop me. I can see how bad you want to beat me up right now, but you know better than anyone what is going to happen when I go out tomorrow looking like my brother."

Marroc stole a glance at Robin, still huddled up on the floor, and saw his bloody face, and the bruises on his cheeks and arms.

Allie slowly stood up on trembling legs. "You will be the one living in hell if people find out how you treat us. A hell of your own making. So, will you stop now?"

Marroc was appraising her darkly. Suddenly, he was in front of her with an iron hold on her wrist. "Really?" he asked meekly. Do you really think you have won? Even if you open your mouth, do you think anyone will believe you? Kids hurt themselves all the time while playing outside…"

He twisted her wrist and she gasped in pain. "At least for now, I still have power over you, you evil little witch. In this house, I hold all power. And I _will_ use it."

"People will find out."

"No one will find out," he replied in a voice that made her shudder.

However, as if to give lie to his words, a knock suddenly came at the door. Everybody froze. Even Robin stopped whimpering.

The knocking resumed after a few more moments of silence, and was now accompanied by a hobbit's voice. "Mr. Marroc? Hello? It's me, Drogo!"

Marroc's eyes fleeted to the window, but no one was peering inside. He eyed the mess all around him, at the blood on the floor, along with Robin's bruised face and Allie's disheveled appearance. Allie was now eyeing him with a small smirk on her red face. Marroc grabbed her by the hair to drag her to the cover-bed, where he threw her down violently.

He then seized a blanket and ordered harshly to Robin to hide underneath it and pretend he was sleeping. Allie turned on her side, staring unblinkingly as her father walked nervously to the door and opened it.

Drogo entered, followed by Primula. A cold air current followed them in, and Marroc quickly closed the door behind them.

"Well, hello again!" Drogo saluted jovially. "We came to see how your girl was doing. We brought some more herbs and also some food. Hopefully it will help her get better soon..."

His voice drifted off as he looked around the place, his eyes lingering on the bundle of blankets on the floor that was Robin. Marroc quickly stepped in front of him and forced Drogo to look back at him instead. "Yes, I truly appreciate it. I would invite you in for some tea but alas, I must first pick up the pieces of that bowl. I let it drop just now. I must be getting old. In any case, the children are still sleeping right now. I will thank you both properly another time."

He was wringing his hands, stealing constant glances at Allie, who now had her eyes closed. She knew how distressed he was at the perspective of her standing up and revealing the state she and her brother were in, but she had no intention of doing that. She would keep quiet and see just how nervous he would get. She didn't need to open her eyes to know that Drogo and Primula were now eyeing uncomfortably the shattered pieces of porcelain on the floor as well as the unusual flush of color on Marroc's face. She didn't need to open her eyes to know how hard he was trying to think of ways in which to drive these unwanted guests out of the house.

No, she would just lie there quietly, and she would show him that his grace now depended entirely on her will. She would show him who really held power in this house from now on.

Afterward, her memories of that confrontation with her father would always remain blurry in her mind. When she got better, the first thing she realized was how both her father and her brother now looked at her differently. Even though she didn't remember exactly what she had said to her father, she noticed with satisfaction that the latter now never raised a hand against her nor Robin anymore. Instead, he would glare at her with all the hatred and disgust that he was capable of, but she could live with that.

Her brother, however, was acting awkwardly in her presence and would not speak to her unless spoken to. She didn't know why he was acting that way, and she hated that. She had never been on bad terms with her brother; he was the only person she had left.

"I'm so sorry you got beaten because he found out you were covering for me," she muttered to him unhappily one day, not looking at him in the eye. "Please don't hate me, Robin. I swear, I will do everything I can for you from now on."

Robin had finally sighed at those words, and had come to pet her hair like he always did. "You already did, Allie. And I could never hate you. I'm just angry at myself for not protecting you better. Instead, you were the one who protected the both of us back there."

Allie looked up into her brother's sad eyes. "What exactly did I say to him, Robin? I can't remember."

Robin was distracted again. "You were great. You said everything that I couldn't say."

She bumped her shoulder into his. "Then cheer up. I think everything might go well from now on." She addressed a hesitant smile in his direction, and finally, after all those days, he reciprocated with a real one.

When Merry and Frodo saw Allie again, they were both relieved and happy. Merry and her had a jumping hug in the snow while Frodo watched from the side, smiling. Pippin had already left for Tuckborough, but Merry said he would write him a letter telling him that everything was settled.

"He was super worried about you, Allie. And he also felt bad because he was encouraging you to ride on that ferry!"

She smiled. "Well, tell him that I'm all right now. I'm not to be taken down so easily! And besides, the ferry ride was pretty amazing. Until the last part, that is."

"So?" Frodo spoke up. "The news about you has made the tour of Bucklebury and Buck Hill, and everyone is gossiping about your story. What do you intend to do now?"

Merry bit his fingers at this. "Oh dear! Does that mean the game is over? But… we are still seeing each other, aren't we? I mean, we can still play like before, no? What happens now?"

Allie shrugged. "Things happened. My father can't just keep me inside anymore, especially since everybody knows about me now, so I suppose I can play freely from now on!"

She shared a look of complicity with Merry, which made the latter light up again. "Best news I have ever heard!"

Frodo, however, was frowning. "So, being so secretive and all, it was for nothing? You said your father will be mad once he finds out you have been going out, but you are fine right now. You could have just stopped hiding from the beginning. Was it really all just a game?"

Allie's face fell at this. How could he speak so lightly about her life? He wasn't there when her brother had almost been beaten to death; he could never understand.

Frodo walked up to her. "What is the real reason your father was not allowing you outside?"

She froze at this and clenched her hands into fists. "No particular reason!" she hissed back with such fury that Frodo felt pierced by it.

With an enormous amount of will, she forced herself to smile. "You are a smart one. It was all just a game. You have to admit that it made things pretty exciting."

Merry smiled upon hearing that. "It sure did! Was your brother in on it too?"

"Yes," she lied. "It's a game we would often play back in Bree. Come on, Merry. Let's think of a new game to play now."

Merry grinned. "Such as?"

Frodo watched them leave, somehow not very convinced. After a while, he followed after them.

The three of them walked until they reached a little hut in the fields. The ground was still covered with thick snow, and there was snow hanging from the roof of the hut as well. Allie directed her gaze upwards and saw a pile of snow hanging at the edge of the roof. It was slowly sliding downwards and would soon fall.

Merry squatted down near the hut and started digging in the snow. Frodo stopped beside Allie and stuck his gloved hands into his pockets. "If something was wrong, you would tell your friends, wouldn't you? You would tell Merry."

Allie threw him a glance. "What are you talking about again, Frodo?"

"I can see that Merry and you are good friends. I have told you this before: friends don't keep secrets from each other."

She started feeling very annoyed. "I don't have a secret! Why do you keep pestering me about that?"

She wanted to walk away, but Frodo blocked her path. His blue eyes were serious. She gritted her teeth. "Even if I do have a secret, why is it important for you to know about it?"

Frodo was a little taken aback. "Well…" he pondered, but could not come up with a ready answer.

Allie's eyes narrowed. "I thought so as much. Why don't you take your curiosity and go somewhere else?"

She hit the wall of the hut to punctuate her words. The vibration dislodged the mound of snow on the roof, and made it all fall down in a single chunk onto Frodo's head.

He let out a yelp and shook his head to get the snow out of his eyes as he pulled handfuls of it off his face with his gloved hands.

Allie watched him agape for a second before bursting into laughter.

"Why you, Allie!" he shouted, still half blinded. "You did that on purpose!"

Merry was literally rolling in the snow laughing so hard he could barely breathe, while Allie was doubled over holding her stomach.

"I didn't do that on purpose!" she managed to say between two bouts of laughter. "I really didn't."

"You are set on annoying me till the very end, aren't you?" the blue-eyed hobbit shouted. "Didn't we agree to a truce back then?"

Allie tapped a hand against the wall of the hut. "I suppose this is the hut's way of saying that the truce is over."

She stuck out her tongue at him and marched away. Merry passed Frodo by to follow her. "That trick was neat!" he said, still laughing.

"Fine!" Frodo yelled after Allie. "Have it your way! I was not feeling that truce anyway!"

* * *

_Summer_

It was Allie's first time riding in such a big carriage. Yes, not even a cart, this was a real carriage right here! It was literally three times the size of the cart they rented when her family first came to Bucklebury from Bree. She looked at the middle-aged hobbit with brown hair who was sitting across from her and who was the owner of the carriage, and thought that it must be so nice to be the Master of Buckland. The latter saw her staring at him and addressed a small smile in her direction. She smiled back for a fraction of a second before looking out of the window again.

Beside her, Merry, Frodo and Fatty Bolger were chatting animatedly about something that was of no interest to her. In front of her sat Merry's parents and Berilac, who was presently also looking out of the window pensively.

It was finally Mid-Summer in the Shire, and they were all on their way to Tuckborough to visit Pippin. She was so excited at the prospect of seeing him again! And she hadn't forgotten for a second all those stories he had told her about the Marish and Farmer Maggot's dogs, and about the hills of Tuckborough. She couldn't wait to explore all those places with her new friends.

Merry, who was sitting beside her, nudged her in the ribs and asked her if she wanted more apples. She took one gratefully and smiled. Merry beamed back, and ignored Berilac's outstretched hand and his demand that Merry pass him an apple as well.

As she laughed and crunched on the red fruit, she couldn't help thinking how much things had changed since the winter.

There had been a period of slight turmoil when all the adults and all the kids had come to learn of her existence. Everybody was gossiping about where she had come from and why she had seemingly popped up from nowhere. She could only laugh at some the stories hobbits were telling late at night at the inns.

Some suggested that Marroc first came with his son and had left her in Bree with other relatives, but that she had come to the Shire on her own because she missed her family too much. Others suggested that Marroc had adopted her from somewhere in the Southfarthing after her parents had been killed by a bear in the woods. And the most outrageous stories said that she was an apparition that had taken hobbit form after Marroc and Robin had conjured up some black magic in their smial. One particular fat hobbit always arduously told the tale of how he was by the ferry on a rainy day and had seen a hobbit-shaped shadow next to it. The next second, it was gone. Other hobbits also nodded and proclaimed that sometimes they had felt a presence in the village and in the fields that was watching them. They all agreed that it was the phantom girl who had now acquired flesh. All the hobbits asked Marroc for the real version of the events, but the latter just told them grumpily that she had been there all along, but that she was a shy lass who rarely left the house, especially after coming to this new place. Of course, everybody was disappointed that it was just that, so they went back to believing the ghost story instead.

Allie was quite amused to see that the adults who half believed in her ghost origins always looked at her with fear. She pondered whether she should just dress up in her cloak again and go around their smials to scare them. Merry told her she should do it and he'd do it with her. Frodo told her to stop thinking foolish thoughts, which she responded to by stealing his hat and running away with it.

Speaking of Frodo, it was true that they were at war with each other again. One day in the spring, he had come to her house early in the morning when she was still sleeping. He had pushed her window open and had dropped worms on her face. Just thinking of it still made her cringe. Of course, she had gotten back at him for that by throwing his homework in the Brandywine River, which had managed to get him into detention on a Saturday.

And it was like that back and forth every time they crossed each other's paths for whatever reason. As a consequence, Frodo almost always hung out exclusively with Robin, Folco and Fatty, while Allie played with Merry and some other kids she got to know over the course of the months.

The kids first regarded her with apprehension and suspicion, but soon they all started playing together, the way kids do. She also once tried to play with some girls, but came to realize that Merry and Berilac were right about them. They were all extremely timid, and they really did play with dolls all day! The girls she knew at Bree were not like them like all. They were all of the adventurous type, if she had to use a word to describe them. Once, she tried to convince the girls to go ride a goat, but they had all stared at her like she was had grown a second head.

All in all, Merry was still her favourite playmate, and she would spend most of her time with him. Sometimes, Merry would be busy waging war with Berilac, in which instances she spent some alone time on her tree platform.

Speaking of Berilac, when Allie saw him again for the first time after that incident on the ferry, he was so embarrassed he couldn't look at her in the eye and literally ran away upon seeing her. She knew how much his ego must have hurt after being literally rescued by a lass. However, as time passed, he got over it. Now, he would treat her the same way as before when they had first met.

She was pulled out of her reverie by the feeling of a pair of eyes on her. Pulling her gaze away from the scenery outside her window (they were now travelling across the biggest forest she'd ever seen), she saw Berilac looking at her from across the carriage.

"What?" she asked, her mouth half full with a bite of apple.

Berilac's eyes widened for a moment, like he hadn't realized he'd been staring. "Nothing!" he mumbled, and then: "You have apple juice on your chin. Can you not eat more properly?"

Allie frowned, but wiped at her mouth without a word and went back to looking at the scenery.

Berilac threw a last glance at her and did the same. Fatty watched him with narrowed eyes, but didn't say anything.

An hour later, they finally entered Tuckborough village. Allie marvelled at the quite different scenery. Here the hills were much taller, and there were gentle valleys in between the hills. Patches of fir trees grew here and there, and everything was green as far as the eye could see.

The ponies guided the carriage in front of the hugest series of smials she'd ever laid eyes on. She stared agape at the golden doors and the nicely painted walls behind which lay numerous excavated tunnels and rooms. She had always borne some unconscious contempt at hobbits' way of living in tunnels under the ground, but there was no trace of contempt left in her as she gazed upon the Grand Smials of Tuckborough, Pippin's home.

At that moment, the Great Door opened and Pippin rushed out, all smiles and excited looks, and came to bang on the door of the carriage before the ponies had even stopped.

"Careful, Pippin!" Eglantine proclaimed as she ran after him down the steps and onto the road.

Allie saw Pippin outside and opened the door. She jumped out of the carriage and hugged Pippin tight, both of them hollering in joy.

"Allie! Last time I saw you, you were as cold as a dead person! I'm so glad you're fine!"

"That was the coldest day of my life! But great to see you too! I love your house! Silly, you didn't tell me you were rich?"

Pippin pulled back to look at her, beaming as bright as the sun. "Yes! You will love it here! So many tunnels to explore! But first you must tell me more about the raft! Merry tried telling me in his letters but his handwriting is unreadable!"

"Hey! I heard that, you know?" Merry grunted with a smile as his head appeared out of the carriage.

Pippin and Allie pulled him into a three-way hug.

Berilac, Frodo and Fatty all came to join them, and Pippin excitedly hugged each one of them in turn. "So many of you came this summer! We will have so much fun!" he exclaimed ecstatically.

Paladin also came out of the house, and Merry's and Pippin's parents all exchanged warm greetings and handshakes.

Dinner that night was served in the Great Hall, and Allie had never seen so much good food all in one place. And she had never seen such a long table either, with so many hobbits sitting around it. Apart from the kids, there was a group of other hobbits that were all part of the Thain's family and who also lived in the Great Smials. She wondered how it was like to live with so many people every day, but then it was time to eat and she stopped thinking. Instead, she started devouring everything at high speed, until she realized that the food would not be taken away nor would it disappear, and finally allowed herself to slow down. Pearl, Pimpernel and Pervinca, Pippin's three older sisters, all looked at her with round eyes from across the table.

Allie noticed that they were all holding knife and forks and were eating tidily whereas she had sauce all over her face and fingers, and there were bits of food around her plate. She felt ashamed for a second, but then the cooks were bringing out the beef, and she stopped caring.

Frodo eyed her with one arched eyebrow. "You eat as much as Fatty. How can you be so skinny?"

Allie shrugged. "I don't know. Why do you always ask so many questions? Here, try this!" She stuffed a chicken leg in his mouth to stifle whatever he was going to say next.

When they were done, Pippin led them around his huge house, making them visit the different rooms. There were so many that Allie wondered how Pippin managed not to get lost.

Finally, it was time for bed. Eglantine came to Allie and guided her to the girls' room. She looked uncertainly at Merry and Pippin for a second, but the latter just told her he couldn't wait to play with her outside tomorrow, and wished her a good night, leaving her with no choice but to follow Eglantine down the hallway, while clutching her little satchel of belongings apprehensively.

Eglantine opened the door to a bedroom, and when Allie stepped inside, Pippin's three sisters stopped the conversation they were carrying to look at her.

"Girls, take care of Allie." And to Allie, she added with a smile: "Go wash up, dear. And then off to bed!"

She closed the door behind her and Allie twirled around to look at Pearl, Pimpernel and Pervinca. There was a moment of silence and awkwardness before Pearl, the oldest, came to her and took her by the hand. "Come on, I will show you where the wash basin is."

She guided Allie inside the bathroom and then closed the door behind her to give her some privacy. Once alone, Allie looked all around her. The tiles on the floor were shiny. There was a huge sink, and an even huger white bathtub. A circular mirror was hanging above the sink; she approached it, and saw a bemused looking lass looking back with wide gray eyes and wild curls going in all directions. She tried to flatten them with her hand but only managed to render them even more explosive.

Beside the faucet, there was a rack with three toothbrushes in it; each was of a different color and stood neatly side by side.

She ran the water and took a quick bath.

When she was done, she took out her pajamas and scowled a little upon seeing a hole at knee level. She had never noticed it before, but she did now, because the worn out pajamas certainly looked out of place in this luxurious bathroom. _She_ looked out of place.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in her pajamas, she saw that the other girls had put out a mattress on the floor for her, along with a cozy looking pillow and some blankets. None of them looked at her when she let herself fall on it and rolled a little, marvelling at the softness of the material.

Pearl was sitting at a desk, reading a book by the light of a lamp. Pimpernel was sitting beside the window, knitting something. Pervinca was playing with a doll, lying on the bed on her stomach.

"This is so bouncy," Allie couldn't help remarking as she jumped a little on the mattress.

Pimpernel raised a disapproving eyebrow. "Don't go breaking the springs."

Allie sobered up and let herself fall on her back on the mattress. She noted that Pippin's sisters didn't seem to like her very much. Just when she was having that thought, a pair of curious green eyes appeared in her field of vision. Blinking, she turned on her stomach and saw Pervinca lying at the edge of her bed, looking at her with her head cocked to the side a little.

"Is your name Allie?" she asked curiously.

"Yes."

"I'm Pervinca."

"I know."

"Is it true that you come from Bree?"

"Pervinca!" Pimpernel scolded gently. "Stop asking so many questions and go to bed. You'll make her uncomfortable."

Allie turned towards Pimpernel. "Oh no, not at all." And back to Pervinca: "Yes, I come from Bree. Do you want to hear some stories?"

Pervinca's green eyes sparkled much like Pippin's, and she jumped down excitedly from her bed to land beside Allie on the mattress. "What kind of stories?"

And so Allie drew from her arsenal of childhood stories, including the one with the murderer, and started recounting them to Pervinca, who stared at her the whole time, fascinated. Although Allie didn't notice it, Pearl had stopped reading, and Pimpernel had stopped knitting, and they both listened to her as well, in silence.

After a moment, Eglantine came to blow off the candles, and all the girls scooted to bed. But Pervinca urged her to tell them more stories, and so she continued talking in the dark. When she ran out of stories from Bree, she told them how she met Merry, Pippin and Frodo, and what tricks they had played on Berilac. And also that time on the ferry…

She fell asleep in the middle of it.

Over the next few days, Frodo, Berilac, Fatty, Allie, Merry and Pippin played at exploring the Great Smials and the surrounding hills. Since Merry knew the place relatively well, he served as guide along with Pippin. Outside on the hills, they played at rolling down the slopes while crossing their arms over their chests, and raced to see who could roll down the fastest. Fatty won, of course.

And there was plenty of strawberry with cream to eat. Allie discovered that it was really the best thing she'd ever tasted; it was even better than ice cream. She also discovered that it was Frodo's weakness. Frodo was against all sorts of law-breaking, such as going into rooms they were not supposed to go into, or stealing things, but none of that mattered when it came to strawberry with cream. One day, Allie saw him sneaking into the kitchen and stealing some while the adults were not looking.

She threatened to tell on him to Pippin's parents unless he shared it with her, which he did half-heartedly, glaring resentfully when she stole the biggest of the strawberries.

And of course, they had to play hide-and-seek inside the Great Smials. The tunnels and rooms provided ample hiding spots, and it was too good to pass out on. Pippin's sisters joined them, and Diamond, Pippin's neighbour who had come to visit them that day, joined them as well. Soon, the big group of kids were playing rock-paper-scissor to decide who would be the seeker. It ended up being Berilac. He went to the Great Door and started counting to a hundred with his back to them.

Soon the house was filled with sounds of footsteps on wood planks, and of doors opening and closing.

Pervinca, Pimpernel, Pearl and Pippin all had the same idea to hide in their parent's huge closet. As they pushed at each, groaning, Pippin complained: "How can you all think of coming here?"

"No wonder we are of the same family," Pimpernel groaned.

"Whatever, shh!"

Footsteps ran past their door and disappeared.

Merry went to hide underneath a bed, and Diamond squeezed underneath the bed next to his. Merry saw her and waved at her to go elsewhere, but she obstinately looked away and remained in her spot.

Frodo knew exactly where he wanted to go, and that was underneath the kitchen sink. However, when he got there, he saw that the space was already occupied by Fatty.

"Fatty! Scoot over!"

Fatty ignored him, sitting with his back to one side and his feet touching the other side.

"78!" came the voice of Berilac.

"Fatty, come on!"

"Sorry, Frodo. It's kind of tight in here. I suppose the extra bread I had for lunch is not helping either."

Frodo shook his head at him and ran out of the kitchen.

"87!" Berilac said.

Frodo, panicked, looked everywhere. And then it came to him. When Pippin was giving them the tour of his place, he remembered there being an unused room with a desk on top of which were sitting a lot of vases. The desk was broken and there was a hole at the back of it from where he could crawl inside the furniture. He hurried to that room, which luckily was close to the kitchen, opened the door and rushed inside.

"93!" Berilac said.

It was the right room. Frodo ran to the desk, got down on all fours and… came face to face with Allie.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a quite consternated whisper.

"I'm hiding, obviously!" Allie whispered back.

"Make some space!"

"I can't! Go somewhere else. I got here first!"

"100. I'm coming!" Berilac crooned.

Frodo pushed her aside and stepped into the hole as well. The place, however, was restricted, and Allie found her face flattened against the wood. "What on earth is your problem?" she exclaimed.

She pushed him with her feet, and he pushed her back.

"Be still now," he said, "or we will be found out!"

They are now both sitting facing each other, with their back against the inside surface of the desk.

"And whose fault would that be?"

"I didn't have a choice!"

"Look, there is a closet right behind the desk! Just go there!"

"You go there!"

"Why should I? I got here first!"

Blue eyes glared at her. Grey eyes glared back.

They fell silent as they tried to track Berilac's footsteps on the wooden floor. He did not seem to be coming in their direction so far.

Allie tried moving a bit and only managed to knock her head against the top of the desk. She massaged the area moodily.

"Really?" she asked Frodo in an undertone. "Of all the hiding places, you had to choose this one?"

"Trust me, this situation is not ideal for me either," he retorted.

Allie sighed. "All right, keep still. I'm going to go to the closet."

Frodo blinked. "You shouldn't. Berilac could come in any second."

"I will take the risk. Make some space for me to pass."

Without waiting for a reply, she started edging towards the opening in the desk. Frodo hugged his legs to his chest to let her pass. She bumped her head again as she shuffled over him. Suddenly, Frodo turned his head as he picked up a noise. The sudden motion sent Allie sprawling over his legs.

Allie blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Oh, you did that on purpose," she let out in an angry whisper. "You definitely—"

Frodo clasped a hand over her mouth. "Shh…"

A second later, the door creaked open. "I know someone is in here," came Berilac's crooning voice.

The floor creaked, and Frodo pulled Allie against him to keep her still, with his hand still over her mouth. The both them stayed there, unmoving, wide-eyed, and hearts pounding. They heard the door to the closet behind them being jerked open, followed by a grunt of disappointment from Berilac.

Berilac then slowly made his way towards their desk. Allie heard Frodo hold his breath. Berilac was about to peer behind the desk when a knocking sound came from the room next door.

Berilac froze, and then hurried out of their room to rush next doors. Frodo and Allie let out a sigh of relief at the same time. Allie then seized Frodo's wrist and pulled his hand away from her mouth, allowing her to draw a proper breath.

She turned towards him, her face an inch from his. "What on earth?" she whispered indignantly. "You almost chocked me!"

Frodo stared into her grey eyes. "I just saved us both from being found out. A little gratitude would not hurt at this point."

However, Allie was done getting squeezed in that cramped place. She crawled out of the desk.

"Where are you going?" Frodo asked from behind.

"It's unlikely that Berilac will come back here. I'm going to look for another hiding place."

"Wait!" Frodo rushed to get out of the desk as well, and in his hurry his foot got trapped in the bottom edge of the desk. He half-crawled, half-stumbled out of the desk, barely managing to keep his balance. However, the vase that was sitting at the edge of the desk titled precariously... and then fell.

"Watch out!" Allie exclaimed as she pushed Frodo out of the way.

A second later, the vase lay shattered at their feet, with pieces everywhere.

The hobbits stared at each other, horrified. They were certain that someone would be coming soon because of all the noise. As to confirm their fears, the sound of footsteps soon reached their ears, coming from the hallway.

Allie stared at the shattered vase nervously, and then bolted towards the window.

"What are you doing?" Frodo asked.

"I'm getting out of here. Imagine if we get caught? They would punish us for sure. That vase looked expensive."

Frodo also came to realize this. "But we can't go outside! The rules of the hide and seek were to stay in the house."

"Silly! Are you still thinking of the game?"

The window was now opened. Allie climbed onto the windowsill. The footsteps were getting closer by the second, accompanied by the sound of voices.

"Wait, you are not asking me to take all the blame?" Frodo freaked out.

"I never said you can't come with me!"

She jumped outside.

Frodo eyed the door, made up his mind, and followed her out by the window a second before the door to their room was thrown open.

The two hobbits then crawled along the walls of Great Smials like criminals until they finally reached the Great Door. Opening it carefully without a sound, they sneaked back into the house. They looked at each other and bit back a smile of triumph. There were sounds of voices and footsteps down a corridor, and they followed it until they reached the room they were in a few minutes ago.

"What happened?" Allie asked theatrically upon entering, widening her eyes to fake surprise.

All their friends were crowded around the broken vase, and Berilac was looking distressed.

"I didn't do it! I swear!"

"But you came from that room! I saw you passing by from the room next door!" Pimpernel said accusingly.

"Well, it was still fine when I left it! It wasn't me!"

"It's not a big deal!" Pippin tried to calm them.

"Not a big deal?" Pimpernel retorted. "The vases are father's collection!"

"Cast-off collection," Pippin corrected. "The ones he really cares about are in a glass shelf in his studio. I saw them!"

"Anyway, if Berilac didn't do it, then who did?" Fatty asked, confused.

"There was no one in the room when I checked!" Berilac grunted.

"Maybe it was a ghost," Allie suggested innocently.

At this, everyone froze, and then looked around uneasily.

Allie turned around to hide her smile, and saw that Frodo was also pressing his lips together to contain his. She impishly pressed a finger to her lips in a sign of silence, and Frodo gave her a small nod of complicity.

Luckily for all the kids, Paladin was nice enough to let it go, and no one got punished for the incident.

And so the days passed peacefully, until Pippin suggested with barely suppressed enthusiasm that it was time to visit Farmer Maggot's crops. Everybody was excited at this perspective, because it would everyone's first time. Farmer Maggot was a figure of legend to all the surrounding kids by now, and his dogs were even more legendary and feared than dragons.

The kids all prepared for this like they would prepare for an expedition into unknown lands. They packed their bags with some food and armed themselves with slingshots to guard themselves against the dogs.

Then, by a clear summer morning, the party finally set out.

The party in question consisted of Allie, Frodo, Merry, Pippin and Fatty. Berilac, unfortunately, had caught the flu a few days ago and had been placed in quarantine, to Merry's great satisfaction.

As they were nearing the forest, Allie bumped her shoulder into Pippin's excitedly. "It's finally time. I have been waiting for this!"

A pair of shiny green eyes turned to look back at her. "Me too!"

"There will be a wasteland at farmer Maggot's place after we are done with it!" Merry laughed evilly.

"More like a burial site when the dogs are done with _us_," Frodo exclaimed.

However, the glimmer in his eyes betrayed his excitement. He was ready for the next adventure.

* * *

_Alright guys, I'm sorry it took me longer than usual to post this, but I didn't know if people were actually that interested in reading this so I slacked off a little lol. If you are reading, just give me a wave so that I know that you guys are... you know, out there! :D _


	11. Farmer Maggot

**Farmer Maggot**

The hobbits soon entered the forest. They followed the road to prevent themselves from getting lost in the woods. A few hours later, Merry and Pippin started singing at the top of their lungs a song about trees, while Fatty trudged behind, nonchalantly eating an orange as he walked.

"Do you stop eating, ever?" Allie teased.

"Life is too short and there are too many good things to eat," Fatty replied good-naturedly.

Allie pondered this for a moment and came to the conclusion that he was right.

The weather was really nice that day. The sun shone across the foliage of the trees, creating patches of sunlight in the grass. Allie skipped from one to the other.

They made a brief pause for lunch, and finished everything that they had brought with them. They set out once more, and soon enough, Pippin was telling them to be quiet as they left the forest behind and came in front of a steep slope of dirt. They climbed up using their hands, grabbing on the rocks embedded in the ground, and finally stepped onto the headland. There, in front of their eyes, lay the biggest field they had ever seen.

There were more sorts of trees and shrubs, fruits and vegetables, than they could count. Everywhere they looked, there was food. Merry was salivating already, having detected the place where they grew the carrots.

"Where are the dogs?" Fatty inquired uneasily.

"They said they will only come out if we step into the fields," Pippin answered, half-eager, half-apprehensive.

"I'm definitely not looking forward to that part," Frodo mumbled.

"If they come chasing after us, we can just throw Frodo back as bait and then escape," Allie proposed with a laugh.

"Very funny, Allie."

Merry snorted. "I wish Berilac were here. We could use him as bait all right."

"Come on guys, we don't have all day," Pippin started impatiently, shuffling his feet in excitement.

Allie was already studying the field. Because they were at an elevated place, they could actually see most of it. She took notice of where each vegetable grew, and then she noticed a hut in the middle of the fields that had to be where farmer Maggot lived. At the far edge of the field, she seemed to detect a spring flowing downwards.

"Let's go up from the spring," she suggested. "I heard dogs are scared of water."

The hobbits decided it was a good idea, and they walked on the side of the fields until they reached the rapid and turbulent currents of the little narrow spring. They all bent down to quench their thirst first, before following the spring inwards into Maggot's fields. Some fish were swimming in the spring, and there was a net sprawled on the shore in a pile of ropes, probably what Maggot used to catch fish from time to time.

They followed the water until they saw a cluster of low vines and bushes to their left, beyond a fence.

"Watermelons!" Pippin exclaimed.

"Are they ripe?" Merry asked.

"At this time of year, they should be." Fatty answered.

The five of them stopped and looked at the green watermelons attached in a haphazard line-up to the green vines growing on the ground. One of them had split open for some reason, revealing red flesh and black seeds.

"No sight of the dogs yet?" Allie asked.

"They don't come here", Pippin answered. "There is nothing to steal here. I mean, no one can actually steal watermelons. You can only get to them from inside the fields, and if you decide to run while carrying them, the dogs will catch you for certain."

Allie nodded in understanding.

"All right, so we should form a plan," Frodo said.

Merry wasn't convinced. "That would take too long. We should just act!"

"We cannot act without a proper plan," Frodo reaffirmed.

"Frodo's right," Allie agreed.

Frodo threw her a look of surprise; it was the first time she had agreed with him this openly. Allie was continuing: "We should separate, steal what we can, and regroup here."

"Should we do this in teams of two?" Pippin asked.

"We are five," Fatty remarked.

"Is anyone willing to act independently?" Merry asked uncertainly.

Allie raised her hand. "I don't mind giving it a shot."

Frodo was looking at her. "Are you sure?"

"Why? If you come with me, I might really throw you to the dogs as bait in my escape," she teased.

Frodo crossed his arms. "Don't be foolish, I was thinking of pairing up with Merry anyway."

Merry accepted right away. Pippin was looking forlorn. "Come on, Allie, we should do it together then, with Fatty."

Allie nodded. "That works too." She smiled, and Pippin, Fatty and her high fived each other.

"All right then," Frodo was saying, "we will go for the carrots."

"The cabbages are ours," Pippin decided.

And then they disbanded. They helped each other get over the fence, and then Frodo and Merry bifurcated to the right while Pippin, Allie and Fatty continued straight towards the middle of the field. They walked among some fruit trees for awhile, until the field of cabbages came into view, stretching into long bands in front of them. They crouched down and crawled on all fours because it was a flat area, and they would be visible from afar if they stood up. They reached the edge of the field within minutes and started plucking the biggest cabbages growing nearby to stuff them in their bags.

They looked at each other, grinning as they worked. When their bags were full, they plucked a last one to carry under their arms, now looking around nervously. However, only the buzzing of insects disturbed the quiet of that summer afternoon.

As they were getting ready to leave, the sound of barking suddenly reached their ears.

Flattening herself on the ground, Allie straightened her ears, and felt her heart start racing when she realized that the barks were coming in their direction!

"We better run back now!" she yelled upon standing back up.

Pippin suddenly shrieked and pointed to his left, where a black figure was bouncing towards them over the fields. It was approaching much faster than Allie was expecting. Fatty was the first one to snap out of his daze and bolt towards the fence. Allie imitated him and seized Pippin by the wrist to pull him along when she passed him by.

Fatty was actually faster and more gracious than she expected, zigzagging between the crops, not letting his bag slow him down. The trees beside the fence were only two meters away when a second dog suddenly appeared in front Allie and Pippin, barring their way and efficiently separating them from Fatty. Pippin glanced back in alarm at the other dog that was also closing in on them.

Allie pulled him by the wrist. "Over here!"

They darted right and ran beyond the cabbage fields. The barking doubled in intensity as the two dogs chased after them. Pippin was shuffling his feet as fast as he could, letting Allie pull him forwards, breathing so fast he didn't even have room to scream. He almost tripped twice, but managed to catch himself at the last minute. He had dropped his cabbages a long time ago, and only cared about getting away from the beasts.

The dogs were chasing them on their left, forcing them to go deeper into the fields as they ran.

Allie threw a glance over her shoulder and saw that the dogs were progressively gaining on them with each stride. She dropped her cabbages as well and she and Pippin threw themselves inside a corn field. The tall plants hit them on the face, slowing down their course. The dogs, however, didn't seem bothered as they zigzagged between the maize stems with practiced ease. The hobbits used their hands to get the corn leaves out of their way, and finally came out of the field on the other side.

Their moment of relief was cut short by the tall wooden fence that now lied erected in front of them, standing in between them and freedom.

"What to do?" Pippin panted.

Allie looked behind her; the maize stems were moving frantically as the dogs approached. They had no choice but to go over the fence. Allie laced her hands and urgently intimated Pippin to step on it and climb over the fence.

Pippin did so without complaining, his features pulled tight with fear. He seized the upper bars of the fence and then jumped down on the other side, finally safe.

"Allie! Quick!" He yelled.

Allie tried to climb the fence, but it wasn't easy because it was smooth at the bottom, with no grips whatsoever. The first dog emerged, barking madly, eyes red.

Allie threw a last glance at Pippin between the bars of the fence and then started running alongside it. Pippin ran frantically with her, but on the other side.

Allie wanted to seize the slingshot, but that was in her bag, and her bag was now lying somewhere in the middle of the fields. Distracted momentarily, she tripped on a piece of rock and fell on her hands. Turning on her back vividly, she saw the black dog charging towards her, all growls and fangs.

She let out a sharp scream and backed up against the fence, shaking. Was that it? Was she going to be devoured just like this? It had been a bad idea to come here. A really bad idea.

"Allie!" Pippin was now screaming manically from the other side of the fence.

Hearing Pippin's voice was like a receiving a wake-up call. If she was to die, she wouldn't go down without a fight.

She sprung back up on her feet and crouched low, her unstable hands in front of her, ready to tackle the dog. The dog skirted to a halt a meter away from her and started barking madly and loudly, saliva running down the sides of its mouth. Her heart was hammering so hard she thought it'd burst, but she remained immobile, staring at the dog, ready.

The second dog joined the first and added its barks to that of his peer. The sound was almost deafening now.

Allie stayed in her low crouch; she stared into one animal's eyes and then into the other's. She wondered why they were not jumping on her already.

Suddenly, the dogs stopped barking. They shook their heads a little and just stared at her with a low growl coming from their throats. She stared back at them, gray eyes blazing, still ready, still shaking.

However, the dogs were now almost looking disinterested as they shuffled their front legs a little and licked their muzzle. Slowly, Allie resumed an upright posture. She wondered what the heck had happened to them. But most importantly, she wondered if they would chase her again if she ran.

"Allie…" Pippin whispered. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" she whispered back.

"Stop the dogs!"

"I didn't. They stopped on their own. I don't think they eat people. That's just a lie," she let out in a thin voice.

Pippin didn't seem reassured, and neither was she, to tell the truth. "But still. Get out of there." Pippin said, grabbing onto the fence.

"I'm working on it."

When she backed away by one step, the dogs straightened up their ears, growling a little, but didn't move. Very slowly, not turning her back on them, she started backing away step by step. They didn't take their eyes off her, but also didn't follow her. When she was at respectable distance, she turned on her heels and ran breathlessly back to the spring.

After ten minutes of nonstop running, she finally reached the metal fence, climbed over it and landed on the other side. Everyone else was already back there. Seeing her arrive, they ran to meet her halfway.

"Your hands are bleeding!" Fatty remarked with wide eyes.

"Where is Pippin?" She asked instead, sticking her hands inside her pockets because it wasn't a big deal.

"I thought he was with you?" Merry said.

Allie shook her head and told them what had happened while at the same time trying to calm down from her shoot of adrenaline. When she was done, Fatty sighed.

"It looks like the dogs don't eat people after all."

"I don't know why they stopped chasing me though." She pondered.

"Probably because they saw that you dropped whatever you were supposed to steal!" Frodo remarked reproachfully, and Allie tensed grumpily, realizing that he was probably right.

Frodo sighed as he looked at the meagre amounts of food they had managed to steal and declared fatalistically: "Well, this was immensely productive!"

"It was fun!" Merry beamed. "This is a thousand times more thrilling than anything we have ever done!"

Allie grumbled. Maybe next time (if there was a next time), he should go in there by himself and see how it felt being chased by those barking monsters.

At that moment, footsteps resonated in the bushes near them, and soon, Pippin's head emerged. However, he was being framed in between two older lads with unfriendly faces. Pippin was looking from one to the other, slightly frightened, but still jutted out his chin valiantly.

"Pippin! What's going on?" Merry asked, glaring at the two newcomers.

"I don't know. They caught me outside the fence and asked me if I was alone," Pippin mumbled. "I told them you were with me, and they said they want to see you."

"Who are you?" Frodo asked the two older boys.

"That's our question," said one. "You shouldn't be here. This is our turf."

"Turf?" Allie snorted.

The boy who had spoken narrowed his eyes. "That's right. We are the only ones who can steal here. You guys go somewhere else."

"And who decided that?" Fatty asked curiously.

The second boy walked into Fatty's personal space. "We did. Do you have an issue with that?"

Fatty shrank back. "Not really."

"You folk are beginners," the first boy was saying again, eyeing the broken carrots at their feet with a disdainful smirk on his lips. "Did you get bitten by the big mean dogs?"

The two of them laughed.

"Claiming this as your turf is ridiculous," Frodo protested, "you don't even own this land. You are just thieves!"

The first boy snorted. "And what are you? Saints? Need I remind you that you are all here to do the same thing as us?" He pushed Pippin back towards his friends. "Look, professionals in every line of work have their territories. Maybe you kids are too young to understand this, but think of it this way. We are all sellers here and there is only a limited number of customers. The first ones to come here should of course get all the customers. The guys who come late should just not interfere, because why would the first ones share?"

The second boy nodded and added. "Unless of course the second group has something better to offer, in which case the customers would go to them anyway. But you lot obviously have nothing to offer."

Merry rolled his eyes. "Why are you making this so complicated? It's simple. You guys take care of your business, and we take care of ours. There are so many vegetables around, so quantity should not be a problem."

"That is why I said it's too complicated for you kids to understand."

"Not really, you are just making this complicated on purpose," Allie spoke up, and before the other boy could reply, she quickly added: "you are just basically saying that you were stealing here first, and therefore this is your territory. And you are also the most skilled at it, so there is no way we could compete?"

The two boys looked at each other. "Basically, yes."

Allie was not impressed. "So you should have just said so. What is this foolish story about customers and whatnot?"

"Exactly!" Pippin emphasized angrily, brandishing his small fist.

The first boy was now losing his patience. "Look…"

"But you are also saying," Allie cut him off, "that if we prove ourselves to be more skilled, then we can have a claim on the territory?"

The other two marked a pause. "Yes, that's right. But obviously you would never win."

Allie smiled. "Perfect! Then how about this then? Let's have a competition."

Frodo, Pippin, Merry and Fatty all looked at her.

"Uh.. Allie…" Merry started.

The two lads were snickering now. "Very well, what kind of competition?"

Allie raised two fingers. "In two hours, those who manage to steal the heaviest load from farmer Maggot wins."

"And the prize?" the first boy asked, amused.

"The team who wins," Allie looked at them both, "will have complete control over this territory."

The second boy burst out laughing. "So it's all or nothing, eh? No sharing. I like her," he finished in direction of his companion.

The first boy was smiling too, now brimming with complete confidence. "Very well. My name is Fred, and my friend here is Milo. We shall meet down the spring in two hours. Starting now."

They laughed loudly again and clapped each other on the back before disappearing behind the trees.

As soon as they left, Allie was immediately assaulted by questions and comments and complaints about her sanity, the last ones mostly coming from Frodo. Only Pippin didn't say anything and just looked at her. She looked at him too, and he shrugged, smiling excitedly. She then knew that he was the only one who really trusted her, and that gave her a feeling of warm reassurance.

When the decibel level around her head lowered, she looked at all the lads in the eye and declared: "I know you are worried, but we will win for sure."

Frodo pulled on his hair. "How? Did you see us back there? We are no match for the dogs."

"Oh, well, we don't need to worry about them."

"Really? I did not know you possessed mystical powers," the blue-eyed hobbit retorted.

She narrowed her eyes. "If I had some, I would turn you into a rabbit, Frodo Baggins. No, we don't need to worry about them because Merry told us that the dogs don't come here."

"Yes, because there is nothing to steal here," Merry replied impatiently.

Allie arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

And then she was pointing behind her, towards the watermelon bushes.

Four jaws dropped.

* * *

"I can't believe we are doing this," Frodo was saying a few minutes later from his spot near the fence, as he excavated the ground underneath it with a stone.

Allie had told them of her plan, and it seemed unfeasible, as usual, but at this point it wouldn't hurt to try.

Frodo, Allie and Pippin were busying themselves digging a passage underneath the fence. Allie and Pippin were working on one side and Frodo on the other. Frodo lifted his head and wiped at his sweat with one hand, leaving smears of dirt on his face. Allie looked up from her work, and Frodo and her stared at each other for a moment across the metal wires.

"It will work," she said, trying to sound assured.

Frodo made a noncommittal sound and resumed his digging. After half an hour, there was a circular tunnel running underneath the fence. Frodo then climbed over it to join Pippin and Allie on the other side. They stared at their work, satisfied, and then went to undertake the task of cutting off watermelons from the vines on the ground.

"You have to admit that this is a great idea though!" Pippin was saying while working cheerfully. "Those two fools would never think of doing this. They are so used to only stealing things from the fields."

"I can't believe no one has ever thought of stealing watermelons," Allie agreed.

"That's because you have to carry them through the fields! The dogs would catch you for sure if you run with one of these in your arms!" Pippin said, and shuddered.

"Which is exactly why we will not be going through the fields."

"Come on, less talking now," Frodo admonished. "Let us focus on the task at hand and make sure your plan works, Allie."

Allie smiled at his words and felt a little more certain about this whole entreprise. "If Fatty and Merry do a good job, everything should go smoothly."

"How many do we need?" Pippin asked, and tried to hold one watermelon up in his hand, but failed."They are so heavy!"

"Ten should be enough?" Frodo proposed.

Allie concurred.

When they had cut off ten, they rolled them one by one to the fence and passed them to the other side via the tunnel they had just dug. It wasn't easy, but finally, after much pushing and pulling, and more digging to enlarge the tunnel, they finally got all ten on the other side.

Without wasting time, they then rolled them to the edge of the spring; the waters were flowing downwards turbulently, jumping vividly between the rocks.

The three hobbits looked at each other, and then Pippin pushed the first watermelon into the water. They watched as it bounced a little, half sank, and then was being swiftly carried away by the current, travelling down the spring. Frodo was scared that it would split open when it knocked against the rocks, but its skin must have been thicker and more solid than he thought, because when its green shape turned at bend of the spring, it was still whole.

Frodo felt excitement win him over. "This might work after all!"

The three hobbits then started pushing the remaining nine into the river, and when they were done, they started running down the hill, following the spring.

A few meters away from Maggot's property, the spring levelled off a little, and it was there that they saw Merry and Fatty, each standing on one bank of the spring and each holding the edge of a huge fishing net that stretched from one side of the spring to the other. The watermelons were all caught in the middle of it, prevented from going further along the spring by the huge net as the current rushed past the ropes noisily. All of them still looked whole.

The hobbits all cheered, their spirits lifted immensely.

The spring was not deep at that place, and so Frodo, Pippin and Allie rolled up their pants and stepped inside the cool waters, struggling against the current a little as they made their way to the watermelons. And then carefully and skilfully, they fished each melon out of the water and onto the riverbank.

When the last watermelon was out, Merry and Fatty dropped the net and raised both arms in victory. The three other hobbits did likewise, and soon they were hugging each other and cheering noisily. Since they had little time to spare, they quickly started rolling all the watermelons to where they were supposed to meet up with Fred and Milo.

Under the shade of a tree, they grouped the ten watermelons together and sat on them as they waited for the other two boys to arrive.

"Ha! I can't wait to see their faces!" Pippin rubbed his hands eagerly.

Speaking of which, they now saw them both sprinting in their direction. When they reached the tree, they dropped two heavy bags of all sorts of vegetables at their feet and let themselves drop on the ground, sweaty and out of breath. There were twigs and leaves in their hair, their clothes were torn, and their cheeks were red from running too much under the sun.

"Did you have fun running away from the dogs?" Merry asked with a snicker.

Milo managed to sketch a half smile, and wiping the sweat from his brow, he sat up to stare at the five other hobbits. "Empty-handed, I see?" he mocked.

"Not quite," Fatty replied placidly, and then purposefully changed his sitting position on the watermelon. Pippin pretended to look around airily when his hand was actually tapping the watermelon underneath his butt in a very un-subtle way.

Milo's eyes finally dropped downwards; at first he frowned, wondering what the things were, but when Frodo stood up and put a foot on it, he blemished upon recognizing it.

"F-Fred," Milo stuttered while nudging his friend in the back. "Get up!"

Fred sat up as well, still feeling breathless. "What? Did we win?"

His mouth hang open when he recognized the watermelons, all ten of them. "How…Are those..?"

"Ahhh, I'm so thirsty," Pippin exclaimed. "Shall we crack one open and eat it?"

"How did you manage to steal the watermelons?" Milo finally exploded. "That's not fair! It doesn't count!"

"Why not?" Allie interfered. "They are also Maggot's crops, are they not? So, we obviously stole the heavier load. We win."

"How did you do it?" Fred asked again, stunned.

"That's a secret of the trade," she replied with a half-smile.

Milo, however, was standing up. "Whatever. It still doesn't count."

"Don't even think of breaking the deal," Allie warned, eyes suddenly blazing now. "This is our territory now, so you better get out while we are still being nice!"

Fred looked at his friend uncertainly, but Milo was not letting himself be intimidated. "Or what? What are you doing to do? Why should we even have to honor our promise?"

He came to Allie and stood over her, clearly telling her that she was of no match to him.

"How dare you break the deal?" Allie muttered through gritted teeth.

Frodo stepped up beside her. "She's right. You should not break your promises!"

"Or what?" Milo teased, "you will run to mommy? We don't make deals with kids anyway. So _you_ get out. I doubt you can carry the watermelons back with you, so you can leave those here too."

Allie could not stand the way Milo was looking down on them. Just because he was older didn't mean that he could do as he pleased. She stepped forward bravely and shoved Milo in the chest. "We will fight you if we must!" she let out loudly. "We will not give up what is rightfully ours!"

Milo marked a moment of surprise, but then he shoved her back quite brusquely. She fell back, and Merry got her by the arm before she could hit the ground.

"Hey!" Frodo exclaimed, his blues eyes blazing as he looked at the older lad.

Allie broke free of Merry and ran head first into Milo's chest, but the latter just laughed and held her back by the wrist with one hand.

"Let her go!" Merry yelled.

Milo's laugh became a yelp of pain when Fatty dropped a watermelon on his foot. Allie took the opportunity to break free.

"You little brats!" he winced, holding his foot.

Fred rushed to his side, looking anxious about a fight breaking loose, but Pippin was suddenly stepping in between.

"Do you not know who I am?" he proclaimed defiantly, his voice clear. "I'm the Thain's son! You heard me!" he raised his voice when Milo looked at him incredulously. "My father will not be pleased if you hurt my friends! Especially after you broke a promise!"

"This is bad, Milo," Fred was saying.

"He's bluffing," Milo snarled.

"Really?" Pippin answered, trying to not to shake. "Well, try me then. Hit me, and we shall see what happens!"

Milo towered over Pippin for a while, and Pippin really thought he'd struck him down. However, Milo just let out a cry of frustration and stiffly backed away. "Whatever. Let's just get out of here, Fred."

He threw a last dark stare in the five hobbits' direction before turning his back to them and walking away, with Fred trailing behind him.

Frodo and the others all stared at the two boys' retreating backs, feeling largely relieved, Pippin more than anyone else. Suddenly, a cracking sound broke the silence, and everyone turned to look at a watermelon now split in half. Fatty was standing over it, a stone in his hand.

"What?" He asked upon meeting their surprised gazes. "The drama is over. Time to eat."

* * *

Marroc was distressed, a string of mumbled words coming out of his mouth as he furiously washed the dishes at the inn. Something had happened. Something had gone wrong.

The night before, it was nearing the end of his shift when he noticed two hobbits near the bar who kept stealing glances in his direction. He paid them no heed, until one of them approached him and started to ask all sorts of questions about Allie, things like where she came from, whether she was really his daughter, whether she was a good child, and so on.

Marroc answered them in his most natural tone, but deep down his apprehension had been growing steadily. These two were onto something! What have they heard? What did they know?

Of course, he had no way of knowing that, just the day before, Robin had been conversing distractedly with the old Boffin about Allie's trip to Tuckborough, and had accidentally let it slip that just a few months ago, their father would never have allowed such a thing. The old Boffin had gotten curious over why the lad had looked as though he would be sick as soon as those words had left his mouth. Boffin discussed it with his friends, and now his friends were trying to get an answer out of Marroc. No, Marroc knew nothing of all that. Instead, he suspected Allie. In his mind, only she could have intentionally talked about it to someone, and that angered him to no end.

He was sure that she was doing this on purpose to make his life difficult. Ever since that confrontation he had had with her when she was sick, he had been trying to keep track of her actions as much as possible. He was against her going to that far away place for the summer, because who knew what she would do or tell to the folk over there?

His hands tightened around the dish he was cleaning. He couldn't let her continue ruining his life in this manner. In his mind, he had done nothing to deserve such a demon as his daughter. She needed to be contained; she needed to be tamed. He could not allow himself to let her have the upper hand in this. As he finished washing the plate and turned off the tap, a plan was forming in his brain.

Muttering low under his breath, his face stretched into a smile.

That night, instead of drinking alone like he always did, he went to join three other hobbits sitting at the corner, causing them to stare at him silently with wide eyes as though he was an apparition. Marroc just nodded his salute and gave them his best smile. He remained silent as the other three resumed their conversation about crops, while occasionally stealing a stunned glance in his direction. They were starting to forget him when he suddenly interrupted the hobbit closest to him, who was telling the tale of how his goat Milky had been acting up lately, by saying that goats would act that way sometimes when they got a disease in their brain that would make them mad.

"Then, it is best to just kill off the poor thing, because the madness is contagious," Marroc finished.

"No way!" the hobbit replied with skepticism.

"I would know. I was raising two goats back in Bree, and the exact same thing happened to one of them. I had no idea what was wrong with the animal at first, so I just let it be, but the next day the second goat got the disease as well," Marroc recounted seriously. "It all started with the animal becoming increasingly distressed during the day, wandering around the pen in circles and not touching his food."

"That's what's going on with Milky!" the other hobbit observed reluctantly, now looking worried.

Marroc grunted and put down his ale. "It would be doing her a favor to put her out of her misery before the dementia really sets in."

The three hobbits looked at each other and one of them shrugged. Marroc took another sip of his ale, watching them, and then seeing that they had let down their guard a little, he started to make some small talk and ended up telling them a little about Bree. He knew all the hobbits from Buckland had been dying to ask him about his past ever since the day he had set foot in town. The folk here were so easy to read and so very predictable that it almost wasn't funny.

Soon, just like he expected, the three hobbits were hanging onto his every word with awe; a few minutes later, others also came to sit around the table to listen to him speak. It seemed that at least Allie's storytelling skills came from her father. Marroc, however, knew nothing about that. All his focus was on his audience as he told them of what his life had been like.

It was time he made some friends around town. He would tell them everything they wanted to know; he would even tell them about his deceased wife to gain their sympathy. The reason he was doing this was simple, really. There would come a time when it would be his word against his daughter's; and when that time came, all the folk here would now take his side instead of hers.

* * *

It was Frodo's first day back from Tuckborough and already he was bored. He had spent the morning playing pirates with Folco and Fatty, but for once he tired of it real fast. He thought back to when they were stealing watermelons from farmer Maggot and could only sigh. The two months of summer had passed way too fast, and now it was nearing the end of August again.

He waved goodbye to Folco and Fatty, and then went home to get some strawberry with cream from his mom, which he took outside to eat while sitting on the fence of the nearby fold.

A few minutes later, he was surprised to see Robin coming.

"Old Boffin let me go earlier," the dark-haired lad said in explanation as he heaved himself up to sit beside Frodo.

Frodo saw him eyeing his strawberries, and he offered some to Robin upon remembering his manners. Robin picked out the biggest strawberry and unashamedly popped it into his mouth. Frodo glowered a little, thinking that them brother and sister sure acted alike.

They sat a moment in silence, and Frodo couldn't help noticing that Robin seemed troubled. His fingers were tapping his knees nervously.

"Is something on your mind?" Frodo inquired after swallowing.

Robin blinked and turned to look at him. "What?"

"Is everything all right?"

"Yes. Why?"

Frodo shrugged. "I don't know. You seem like you are bothered by something."

Robin seemed to debate whether he should say something, and then seemed to make up his mind "Well, it's about my father."

"Really? What has he done this time?"

"Nothing. And that's the problem," Robin said pensively.

Frodo tried to read his friend's face to see whether he was serious, but Robin was just staring back at him with an unreadable expression on his face. "Are you making fun of me right now?" Frodo frowned.

Robin let out a small laugh and nudged his friend in the ribs. "Yes, you got me."

Frodo sighed. "I knew it." He finished the last of his strawberries, and missed the fleeting look of worry on Robin's face.

"I'm actually here to say goodbye," Robin spoke up again.

Frodo jumped down the fence and stood in front of him. "What? Are you going somewhere?"

"Yes, the old Boffin and I are making a trip to Newbury village. It's the reason why Boffin let me go earlier today, actually. He has a lot of things to pack, and so do I."

Frodo was a little stunned. "Why would you two go there?"

Robin shrugged. "He has a friend there, and he told me they do this reunion thing from time to time. He will bring his stand there, and they will work together for awhile, selling fruits together. He says it will be just like the old days or something. I really don't get him either. But he offered me a pretty good pay if I go with him and assist him."

Frodo pondered over this. "Well, what about your father? Is he okay with this? And Allie?"

"Oh, father agreed right away when he learned of the high pay. And Allie…," Robin sighed, "of course she's mad. She wants to go with me, but that won't be possible."

Frodo kicked a pebble, feeling down that his new friend would be gone.

"For how long?"

"Maybe a month? Boffin said we will be back by the 25th of September."

"What?" Frodo was now really disappointed. "But my birthday is on the 22nd. I was hoping you would make it this year."

Robin gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Frodo. I wanted to make it too."

Frodo put his hands in his pockets moodily.

"I… actually have something to ask of you," Robin said, looking uncomfortable.

Frodo perked up at this. "What is it?"

"I hate to say this, but can you just… um… you know, make sure Allie doesn't do anything stupid while I'm gone? Sort of keep an eye on her and make sure she's fine?"

The other lad slowly took his hands out of his pockets. "Robin," he started seriously, "don't you know that we are at war right now? Just yesterday, on the way back home from Tuckborough, she drew on my face with ink while I was asleep in the carriage!"

A smile of amusement broke out on Robin's face. "I know, I know. All she ever tells me is how she messes around with you. I told her to give you a break, but then she got mad and told me to pick a side."

Frodo frowned at his apologetic expression. "And I am guessing that you picked hers?"

"Well, she's my only sister. Besides, she would have killed me if I didn't pick her on the spot. But don't worry, if it was between you and someone else, I would pick you for sure. You are my only friend here after all."

Frodo's spirits lifted at those words. "Yes! We are good pals for certain."

"And that's why," Robin insisted, serious again, "I just want you to make sure she's all right when I'm not here. It will only be for a month. I don't know Merry all that well, so I can't really ask anything of him. There is only you."

Frodo was now beaming at Robin's trust in him as he clapped a hand on Robin's shoulder. "All right, just for a month though. But I seriously don't understand why you would worry about her. I think I will be the lucky one if I'm still in one piece by the time you get back."

Robin smiled broadly, relieved, and knocked fists with Frodo briefly. "Thanks, friend. I owe you one."

Frodo went back to sitting on the fence, and waved goodbye as Robin walked away. Before disappearing behind the line of trees, Robin turned back again, put his hands around his mouth and screamed: "Just for the record, I'm on your side too. But don't tell Allie!"

Frodo laughed and he mimicked Robin's gesture by putting his hands up to his mouth as well. "Don't worry! It will be our secret!"

Robin waved again, and Frodo waved back.

* * *

Robin finished packing his few belongings in his black bag and paused for a moment to look inside the smial, wondering whether he had forgotten something. His eyes travelled around the small place, and he noticed with satisfaction that he had packed everything he needed.

He eyed the fireplace and remembered that his father had stood right next to it that morning and had told him to be careful and not to talk about things he shouldn't talk about. Robin had just nodded, like he always did to everything his father said, and Marroc had given him a rough pat on the back and had left for work.

Robin threw the bag over his shoulder and stepped outside, eyes searching the grass field and the road for a sign of Allie. He finally saw her sitting on the roof of their smial with her back turned to him, her hair looking golden under the sun.

"Allie?" Robin called out softly to her. "For how long are you going to sulk?"

There was no response.

"Come on, Allie. One month is nothing. I will back before you know it. Besides, it's not like you ever hang out with me anymore now that you have all your new friends."

"That is not true!" Allie protested, without turning around.

"Yes, it is true. And I'm happy for you, really! That's why you won't even notice that I'm gone."

Allie still remained obstinately silent. Robin looked at the position of the sun in the sky. He had to go now.

"Are you not even going to wish me a safe trip?" Robin called out, faking disappointment. "That is too bad. I was thinking of getting you something from Newbury, but now I just changed my mind."

She stirred a little at this. Robin smiled; he knew her too well.

"It is a shame, really. Boffin told me there are so many interesting things over there," he continued innocently. "They've got the best slingshots. They also make small animal carvings out of wood. And balloons that fly into the skies."

He could now see the side of her face.

"And the best things, of course, are the hair curls. Boffin said all the girls there wear butterfly hair curls with wings that move. But I know you are not interested in those."

"That's not true! I want one!" Allie cried out, vividly twirling around to face her brother.

Robin stuck out his tongue at her, and she pouted moodily in defeat.

"Should I will get you one of those hair curls then?"

Allie quickly put her disinterested façade back on. "Well, if you insist."

Robin laughed. "If you insist that I insist. I'm off then. See you!"

He turned his back to her and started walking towards the road leading to the marketplace. He started counting his steps.

_One, two, three…_

And just as he expected, after the tenth step, a pair of small arms came to circle around his waist as a body collided against his back. He put his bag down and turned around to hug Allie properly.

"I'll miss you," she said against his ear sadly.

"I'll miss you too."

He pulled back and patted her wild hair like he always did. "Be good."

Allie swallowed back her tears and flashed a huge smile. "I'll have something for you too when you come back."

"Really? What?"

"It's called a surprise."

"I can't wait then." Robin's black eyes contemplated her tenderly. "Be good," he repeated. "Don't get father angry."

"I won't. I'm not scared of father anymore," she lied.

Robin arched an eyebrow, but indulged her. "Well, I'm off then. Take care of yourself, little sister."

Allie watched him walk away on the road, blinking back the tears, and hurried to wave when he turned back to wave at her.

"Come back soon," she whispered at his retreating back.

* * *

_HA! See? I updated fast! I always do when I'm motivated and your reviews sure have motivated me ;)_

**FreakyFantasy:** hey! I'm always glad when people have comments/questions/suggestions, so those are always welcome! :D mmm, I don't think it's that easy to overthrow an abusive parent. It's not like it's the king or something lol. You are still sort of dependent on him because you are just a kid and there is nothing much you can do. But dont worry, ever since Allie confronted him, he won't be beating them up again for awhile. LOL, yes the relationship between Frodo and Allie is something I want to build very slowly. They are just kids now so you know... they play together and they are kinda mean to each other sometimes, but it doesn't mean they hate each other. In fact, they love to wage war against each other =P Sort of like Merry and Berilac. Don't worry though, in the next episode you are gonna see a change in their relationship already ;D haha I loved writing about the whole hide and seek too. Hope you enjoyed this one! :)

**iLuvTwiBoyz:** thanks! :D Yeah, the prologue kind of gives away the main pairing of this fic haha :) so I hope you will enjoy reading about their developing relationship. The story will progress to the end of the ROTK but with a twist. I think the main focus will be on what happens before Frodo gets the ring from Bilbo, and then of course there will be part where Frodo sets out to destroy the ring, but all I can tell you right now is that things will not end up like in the book or movies :)


	12. Fireflies and Old Forest

**Fireflies and Old Forest**

Over the days that followed, Allie felt a little down whenever she was reminded of her brother's absence, especially when she was alone at home. However, soon she was distracted away from her loneliness by two strange things. The first one was her father. One day, as she passed by the Bridge Inn with Merry, she saw Marroc chatting animatedly with two other hobbits near the entrance. They were all _laughing. _

Allie didn't know how she felt about her father's new social life. She guessed it was a good thing overall, since now he had ceased drinking and hadn't beaten her once since the winter. Could she hope that things were changing? It all seemed too good to be true.

And the second strange thing concerned the annoying rascal otherwise known as Frodo. Lately, he was following her everywhere. Even when she sought refuge by climbing up her favourite oak tree, he was now skilled enough to follow her up there. What she could not understand was the reason for which he was doing so. Before, he only sought her out when he had a trick to play on her, but now he was just _there_.

If this was his new strategy to unnerve her, she had to admit that it was working brilliantly.

"What do you want?" she finally exploded one afternoon.

Frodo put down the book he was reading. "What do you mean?" he asked, his blue eyes glancing up innocently at her.

"For the sake of all that is good, why are you reading a book on a tree?"

They were both sitting on the platform on top of the oak tree, with him in one corner and her in the opposite one.

Frodo blinked and closed the book. "Well, for starters, it is comfortable up here."

Allie felt like knocking her forehead against the wood. "Why do you have to climb on this one though? Can you please just go find yourself another tree?"

Lately, she was truly regretting her decision to teach him how to climb trees.

"But this is the only tree with a platform, which perfectly suits my needs. No one finds you here, and no one comes to disturb you," Frodo answered honestly with a twinkle in his eye.

Allie darted a glowing look in his direction, causing Frodo to put up his defenses for a second. He relaxed, however, when no attack came hurtling in his direction, and went back to reading his book, missing the knowing smirk that suddenly decorated her lips.

That night, Frodo had just fallen asleep when there was a knocking sound on his window. Startled awake, he lied on his bed, eyes half closed, and wondered if he had dreamed the sound. Then, there came a second knock.

Rubbing his eyes, he got out of bed and went to the window to peer outside. It was pitch dark and nothing moved. He went back to bed, yawning. Minutes later, the knocking sound startled him awake once more.

Irritated, he looked outside but still saw nothing. He pushed the window open. "Who's there?"

There was no answer.

To his distress, the annoying phenomenon kept repeating itself for the better part of the night, until he was ready to scream out his frustration at the top of his lungs. The next morning, exhausted and cranky to the extreme, he stepped angrily to his bedroom window from his garden and saw a pile of small pebbles under the windowsill.

There was only one person he could think of who was capable of this aggravating situation. He went to seek out Allie, but she denied everything while blinking confusedly. He knew it was her though. He just knew it.

To his horror, the knocking was back that night also, and again the night after. Frodo knew why Allie was doing this. She probably wanted to get back at him for following her everywhere.

He was only doing it to honor his promise with Robin to keep an eye on her. He thought of giving up on that and just leaving her alone, but he could not bring himself to do so, not only because he wanted to honor his promise with his friend, but also because he actually enjoyed watching Allie squirm in irritation at the sight of him following her everywhere.

They both set into a silent routine in which during the day, Frodo followed her around like her shadow, saying nothing and just glaring at her back. During the night, the pebbles would rain against his window as he buried his head under his pillows and tried in vain to get some sleep.

They both knew what the other was trying to do, but none of them was willing to be the first one to admit defeat. One week later found them glaring at each other wordlessly while sitting on the fence of the fold, with dark circles under their eyes. That's how Merry and Berilac found them as they passed by after completing another farm chore imposed on them by Berilac's father.

"Frodo! Allie! What has happened to you?" Merry freaked out. "You both look terrible!"

"What are you two doing?" Berilac arched an eyebrow, annoyed. "Are you having a staring contest?"

Both Frodo and Allie ignored them.

"Ha! You and I had one of those the other day, Merry reminded Berilac, "and you lost big time."

Berilac, however, was frowning at the sight of the two hobbits on the fence. "Frodo, what are you up to with Allie? Every time I see you two, you are together."

Frodo raised a hand to stop him. "I'm sorry Berilac, but I don't have the energy to explain right now."

"Frodo, you look like you haven't slept in days! What on earth are you two doing? If this is a game, can I join?" Merry inquired.

"It's not a game, Merry," Allie answered. "This is a battle of wills, a field in which I have never lost to anyone before." Her grey eyes narrowed meaningfully at Frodo at this.

Frodo crossed his arms. "There is a first time for everything. We shall see. You are aware that you cannot sleep either when you throw those pebbles at night, are you not?"

"Sleep?" she laughed. "I don't need it. I'm not like you. You can't even stop yawning after a few nights without it."

Frodo's eyes narrowed. "That is a good one! I thought your teeth were going to fall out from yawning so much today!"

"Wait, you two hang out at night as well?" Berilac interrupted.

His outburst was so loud that Allie and Frodo finally both turned to look at him.

"There is no distinction between night and day in war," she replied gravely, and yawned.

"Ha!" Frodo pointed at her. "What did I say? You yawned again! 190 now."

She shrugged. "Whatever, you are already at 201 yawns."

"You two have lost your minds!" Berilac exclaimed irritably.

Merry flicked his cousin's temple with a finger. "What are you getting so worked up for anyway?"

Berilac was stunned for a moment. "I always get worked up by stupidity."

Merry, however, was looking at him weirdly. "Are you sure that is all it is?"

"What else could it be? That is why I'm always worked up when I'm with you too," Berilac said rapidly.

Since Merry was still looking at him suspiciously, he quickly turned to Frodo and Allie, who had resumed their glaring contest, seized each one of them by the arm and pulled them both off the fence. They fell down face first on the grass, and Frodo was the first one up, an indignant expression giving his face some sign of liveliness for the first time that day.

"What did you do that for?"

"Don't you know what tonight is?" Berilac asked, and sighed upon seeing Frodo's confusion. "I can't believe you don't even remember this. Tonight is the yearly campfire."

Frodo's eyes widened. "It is tonight?" he cried out, looking stunned and disoriented for a second.

"Yes!" Merry looked at him, mouth agape. "It's your favourite event. How can you not remember? You better get some sleep before you lose more brain matter."

Frodo shook his head. "I'm fine. I will be there tonight. I hope you got the marshmallows ready?"

"Of course!" Merry said.

Frodo looked down at Allie, who was still lying face down, unmoving. Berilac bent over her body and hesitated to shake her. "Allie, are you all right?" he asked, and gave Frodo an indignant "hey!" when the latter nudged Allie's side with his foot.

"Are you sleeping?" Frodo asked exuberantly, ignoring Berilac.

Allie rolled on her back idly and forced her eyes open. "In your dreams. I'm not losing. Never."

"Oh!" Frodo sat down beside her, disappointed, and covered his mouth discreetly as he stifled a yawn. But of course, that didn't escape her scrutiny. "202!" she yelled, sitting up and clapping delightedly.

"That wasn't a yawn," Frodo protested weakly, as Merry rolled his eyes and Berilac scrunched up his nose in distaste at this whole thing.

"What was it then?"

"I was just… stretching my jaw," he said.

She scoffed. "What? You are _such_ a fool."

Merry was starting to back away. To be honest, his two friends were starting to scare him real bad. Perhaps he should send them to Hob the healer. This behaviour couldn't be normal.

"So… see you both tonight?" he asked them slowly in a wary tone, as though he were handling farmer Maggot's dogs.

"You bet," Frodo answered like a zombie.

"If there is food, I shall not miss it," Allie promised with a smile.

Berilac seemed like he wanted to say something, but Merry pulled him by the vest and dragged him away. It would be bad if Berilac caught whatever disease they had going on and started to go crazy on him too.

"I thought those two could not stand each other!" Berilac mumbled.

"Just like you and me," Merry replied distractedly, already thinking about the campfire.

"We don't hang around all day though," Berilac observed darkly.

"I think it's some new war they have going on. I hope it will blow off soon because honestly, I have not been able to do anything with Allie lately. I want my friend back."

Berilac merely grunted.

That night, the kids all gathered in a clearing, with tents erected inside the circle of trees and a campfire roaring in the middle sending red and yellow sparkles into the warm night air. The sky was clear, and the stars and moon hung overhead, twinkling and casting their pale light onto the grass and trees below.

Allie stared around excitedly at all the activity, sleep already a distant memory. There were kids there she knew, like Folco, Fatty, Berilac, Merry, Pippin and Frodo, and others she didn't know but had seen before from afar. There were mostly lads, but also some lasses. One in particular was hanging onto Merry's arm like a mollusk, and as a result Merry's distress was visible.

"Who is that?" she asked, pointing.

"That is Fatty's sister, Estella," Folco answered her.

"Why is she acting like that?"

"You don't know?" Folco was surprised. "Everybody knows that she likes Merry."

"So? Everyone I know likes Merry."

"No, but she likes _likes_ him."

Allie was frowning. "What do you mean by that?"

Folco contemplated her for a second, before sighing and giving her a small smile. "Forget it. You are too young."

Allie was about to protest when someone yelled that the marshmallows were now ready, thus successfully deviating her attention as her priorities changed.

They ate the roasted marshmallows and drank some juice. Some kids started singing a song, and soon everybody joined in. Allie didn't know the words so she just clapped along. She was really starting to love this whole campfire event. Pippin came to sit by her side and they roasted some marshmallows together.

"So, Merry told me that he is worried about Frodo and you, and he tried to subtly convince me to come over to ask you what is going on."

She laughed a little at that, and saw that Frodo was sitting on the other side of the campfire, talking with some other kids. She told Pippin about the reason why they were now in the fiercest war that they had ever known since they knew each other, but pursed her lips when Pippin laughed. "This is serious!" she exclaimed.

Pippin started saying something but was interrupted by Fatty standing up over the fire, which was now no longer roaring but calmly flicking this way and that, consuming the last bits of burned wood. "All right lads and lasses," he started solemnly. Finally, it is now the moment we have all been waiting for."

The kids sitting around the waning fire all looked at each other, shivering slightly in anticipation.

"Who wants to go first?" Fatty asked.

"What's going on?" Allie whispered to Pippin, whose green eyes were sparkling.

"Storytelling!" he answered, and then whispered in her ear: "ghost stories."

Allie felt a shiver of excitement go down her spine. She loved stories in general, but ghost stories were her favorite.

Fatty brought down the fire to mere sparks, allowing the gloominess of the woods to creep into their circle and form eerie shadows that danced on the grass all around them. The kids all brought some blankets over from the tents and then snuggled together in groups of two and three, ready to be scared.

"I'll go first!" Folco proposed.

The hobbits all looked at him, whispering excitedly, some already frightened. Allie was right there with all of them, gazing at him expectantly. Beside her, Pippin was sitting very still, green eyes wide.

"You hobbits all know about the Old Forest," Folco started, voice low, "and you all know that there is a door leading into it from this side of the Hay. Well, this is a true story. It happened in Crickhollow, the village closest to the Hay. Every month, when the moon goes dark in the sky and everything is plunged into shadows, kids would disappear. On one such night, a mother kissed goodnight to her daughter and put her to bed. By the next morning, the lass was gone without a trace. It was as if she had just vanished into midair. The second month, the same thing happened to a little lad. He was actually awake when it happened. He saw, from his bed, a shadow creeping towards him on the floor. The shadow had the shape of a claw, but as it edged closer… and closer… and closer to his bed, he saw that it actually resembled the outspread branch of a tree. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. And then the shadow sprang up from the ground, seized him by the ankle, and dragged him out of his smial, out into the garden, across the grass, by the door in the Hay and… into the Old Forest. The next day, they saw deep marks on the ground where the lad had dug his fingernails down to try and stop himself from being dragged away. The adults all tried to erase them by putting dirt on them but they would appear again the next day. In fact, even today, they are still there. If you go to Crickhollow, you will see for yourselves. They say that a hobbit disappears in such fashion every night of full moon."

Folco finished his tale and looked around, into the frightened faces of the other kids. The shadows that were now dancing on the grass near the fire looked like claws. Pippin whimpered and edged closer to Allie, who however, did not look impressed. She thought the kids here definitely all were way too scared of an old forest. She hoped the rest of the stories were not all about trees. Estella, however, was burying her face into Merry's chest, almost sobbing, and Merry was holding her wrists, looking at the shadows warily.

Frodo rolled his eyes. Why did Folco always have to tell the same story year after year? It was only scary the first time.

However, after Folco, the stories got much better. One lass told the story of ghosts that appeared behind you in the mirror and would smile at you through the glass; one lad told the story of the haunted smial in the Westfarthing where faces without eyes appeared from inside the walls; Fatty told the story of the headless ghost searching for his head. The ghost would come out of a different closet every night and would look around the room, crouched down, with his cut neck close to the ground.

Allie positively shivered at that, and thought about the closet in her own smial. She was glad she was not sleeping there tonight.

Then it was Frodo's turn. He stood up and started: "The story is about a hobbit lad. He was alone at home and it was the middle of the night. He was sleeping, when suddenly he got woken up by a paddling sound on the floor that resembled tapping. He peered down his bed and saw something moving, but it was moving awkwardly, jerking and twisting, like perhaps a giant spider or insect of some sort. It was dark in the room, and he was scared. The thing moved, but didn't seem to be going in any direction. It was just moving. The lad crept to the window and pulled the curtain open. Moonlight flowed in from outside, and he saw that there was a hand on the floor, twisting and trying to stand up on its fingers. It was as white as wax. There was no body attached to the hand. The lad screamed and tried to leap over it to reach the door, but the hand suddenly seized his ankle. It was as cold as ice. And then it started to climb up the boy's legs, and got underneath his clothes and then…"

Frodo paused, and everyone was looking at him, holding their breaths.

"And then," he continued, "it clawed its way inside of him. When the lad woke up the next morning and looked at himself in the mirror, there were five fingers sticking out from his stomach, and they were no longer white, but the color of flesh, and sometimes they would even move."

Allie drew in a breath and clutched at her own stomach, afraid to feel things, fingers, there. A lot of kids did the same thing. Frodo sat back down, very satisfied with the results of his storytelling.

Allie was up next. She had a lot of stories in memory, but she wanted to pick a juicy one. And then she got it. She remembered hearing it at the Prancing Pony once.

"This is the story of a lass and her dog," she started, her voice mingling with the small sounds of the crackling fire. "She's had the dog for a long time now, and the dog would never ever leave her side. Not only that, he would always lick her hand whenever she did something, like take a book, write a letter, eat a cookie, and so on. She was so used to it by now that she rarely paid the dog any more heed to him when he licked her. One night, her parents were out, and it was only her and her dog for the night. She lived in a huge house with a lot of rooms and tunnels. If any of you have been to Pippin's smial, you know what I'm talking about. Anyway, so there were a lot of rooms and a lot bathrooms as well. That night, the girl went to bed early. She turned off the lamp, and the dog licked her hand, and she got ready to sleep. However, in the quiet of the night, she soon heard a dripping sound coming from somewhere in the house. It was annoying, so she got up and went to check all the sinks and taps of all the bathrooms and kitchens to see which one was leaking. They were all perfectly fine. So she went back to bed, turned off the lamp, and the dog faithfully licked her hand, and she closed her eyes again. However, the dripping sound persisted. Drip…drip…drip… Annoyed, she got back up again and this time actually tried following the sound. She got to the smallest bathroom of the house that nobody ever used, and the dog followed her. The dripping sound was coming from behind the drawn curtain of the shower. Drip…drip…drip… She gulped down, had her dog lick her hand for courage, and then… she pulled the curtain open!"

The kids gasped, hands flying to cover their mouths.

"And guess what was there?" Allie asked slowly.

"Some monster?" a boy squealed.

Allie shook her head.

"Nothing? Just the shower dripping?" Merry ventured in a high pitched voice.

Again, she shook her head.

"What then?" Pippin whispered.

Allie took in a deep breath. "It was the corpse of her dog hanging from the shower head, with his blood dripping into the bathtub."

There was silence.

Allie slowly said: "So the question now is: _what_ was licking her hand all this time?"

Every single kid blemished, and Allie felt herself shiver as well. She just _loved_ telling this part of the story.

"Well, what was it?" Frodo asked in a strangled voice.

Allie smiled wistfully, and the shadows of the dying fire danced on her face. "I don't know," she said, "what are you picturing right now?"

Estella suddenly burst into sobs of terror, and Fatty went over to comfort her. Merry scooted away from them, his hands feeling icy cold. "This is getting scary," he mumbled.

"Time for bed?" Folco proposed. "I don't think I can take any more of this tonight."

"Bed?" Berilac whined with only his eyes peering out from his blanket. "Do you think we can sleep now?"

However, all the other kids concurred with Folco. After looking around them and into the forest alarmingly, they swiftly trailed back inside the tents in small frightened groups.

Allie was about to enter one of the tents as well with Pippin behind her, when Merry caught her by the arm. She turned around and managed to read his conspiratorial look over the dying flames of the campfire. Merry drew his head close to hers and Pippin's and whispered: "There is something I have been wanting to do since last year. I think tonight is the perfect time!"

Pippin's eyes suddenly widened when he understood what Merry was talking about.

Allie only gave him a questioning look. Merry looked around and then said so low that she almost didn't hear him: "Let's go visit the cemetery."

Suddenly, a hand connected with Merry's shoulder and Merry let out a scream. The brown-haired hobbit turned around to come face to face with a baffled Frodo.

"What did you do that for?" he exploded, heart still racing.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to startle you, but I heard what you were whispering there. It's not a good idea to go there by night. Please, be reasonable for once."

"You don't have to come if you are too scared!" Merry challenged.

Frodo turned towards Allie and Pippin for some help. To tell the truth, Allie was scared too at the perspective, but it was a good kind of fright. "Let's go!" she decided.

Merry jumped excitedly and grabbed her arm. Pippin took a shaky breath and said he would go too if she would go. Frodo looked at his friends in exasperation. What would he need to do to make them listen to him for once? At that moment, Estella suddenly barged into their circle like a ball of fury and pulled Merry away from Allie. Her green eyes were blazing when she screamed: "Merry! Who is she? Why are you holding onto her?"

Merry heaved the biggest sigh he could muster. "Estella, what are you _doing_ here? Just go back to your brother's tent."

Estella threw daggers in Allie's direction and the light-haired girl just frowned back confusedly.

"Do you like Merry?" Estella asked her angrily.

"Uh… yes?"

"You do?" she repeated, distressed.

Frodo rubbed his eyes tiredly and reached out to pull Allie away from Merry. "No, she doesn't. She absolutely abhors Merry," and ignoring Allie's protest, he continued: "so calm down, Estella. Now, can we please go back to the tents and sleep?"

Merry managed to peel Estella off him and stepped forward decisively. "I'm going to the cemetery this year. There's no stopping me!"

And then he went into his tent, took out three lamps, lit them, and threw one to Allie and one to Frodo. "You are coming as well. There is no use complaining, so let's get moving."

Allie shrugged and followed after him with Pippin by her side. Estella's eyes travelled from Merry to Allie with panic, before she bolted towards Merry and started walking very close to him while keeping a wary eye on Allie. Fatty and Berilac came out of their tents at that moment and Fatty, upon seeing Estella leaving into the night, quickly went to catch up with her. Berilac followed confusedly, not knowing where they were going. Frodo played with the lamp in his hands, sighed, and then reluctantly followed after them all.

Buckland's main cemetery was not far from their campfire. They lighted their way through the woods with their lamps and, after a ten minute walk, they finally came to a series of bushes beyond which the first few graves could be seen erected in the night. Merry stopped and stared at the quiet cemetery plunged in gloominess, only partially illuminated by the pale light of the moon. Shadows danced on the tombstones.

Estella was clinging to Merry's arm with one hand while her other hand gripped Fatty's shirt. Berilac and Pippin were both clearly ill at ease, shuffling nervously.

"All right, we saw it. Let's go now," Berilac groaned, wondering for the tenth time why he had thought it was a good idea to follow his stupid cousin here in the middle of the night.

"Look!" Allie suddenly whispered. "Something moved!"

The hobbits all tensed and peered into the cemetery anxiously, stepping close to one another, but they saw nothing. Frodo turned around and saw her smirking, and smacked her at the back of the head.

"Now is not the time for being goofy!"

Allie massaged her head but kept smiling.

"Let's go in," Merry decided shakily.

The group all stepped over the bushes, cringing when the thick branches got caught in their clothes. Then, they were walking among the tombs and erected stones of the cemetery. They pointed their lights towards the graves and saw that on some of them, there were writings made faint and unreadable by weather and passing time, while others were invaded by growing vines. Nothing moved, but everything looked alarming under the moonlight. The cemetery was actually huge with rows of hay separating the different sections.

"Are we walking on dead folk?" Pippin wondered frighteningly, walking on his tip toes with disgust.

"No, silly" Fatty whispered. "The dead are by the stones. If you don't walk on the grave you will be fine."

"Are there actual ghosts in here?" Berilac wondered.

"Like those in the stories?" Frodo asked.

"Maybe the headless ghost from Fatty's story is lurking around here somewhere, looking for his head," Allie murmured.

Pippin whimpered. "Stop!"

Frodo caught her suppressing a small smile behind the back of her hand. "You are not scared at all, are you?" he asked in a low voice.

For only reply she raised her lamp at face level, momentarily blinding him. "Allie! Get it away!"

She obeyed and instead placed the lamp under her chin to light up her face from below. Frodo saw her hollow appearance and stepped backwards in alarm. "All right, stop that too!"

She started laughing while Frodo frantically put a finger to his lips to intimate her to be quiet.

"How can you laugh in a cemetery?"

"Why not?"

"It's not fitting!"

"If I give an evil laugh, would that be fitting?"

Frodo sighed and rubbed his eyes, the lack of sleep from the past week finally catching up to him. He had no energy to bicker with her any further. He felt like he was walking in a dream right now. Or rather, a nightmare.

"Come on, we are lagging behind," he grumbled to her and then hurried after the group that was already walking far ahead. Allie made faces at his back as she followed him.

In fact, after awhile, the cemetery already seemed less intimidating than at the beginning. Apart from tombstones, there really wasn't much of anything else.

Berilac eyed Estella still glued to Merry's arm as they walked in between the graves, and then his eyes trailed to Fatty and Pippin huddling close to them, not willing to stray too far away from Merry's lamp. Speaking of which, where were the other two lamps? He threw a glance above his shoulder and saw them glimmering some distance behind. He squinted his eyes and managed to make out Frodo catching up to them with Allie trailing closely behind. She was pointing her lamp at all the graves and was making gurgling sounds in her throat. Frodo was covering his ears with his hands as he walked fast in front of her in order to get away from her.

Berilac felt a little pinch to his stomach at seeing them together again. He knew he was annoyed when she played with Merry, because Merry was his enemy; but he didn't know why he felt annoyed when she was with Frodo. He didn't hate Frodo last time he checked. Maybe it was because she kept saying Frodo was her enemy and yet she still hung out with him so much. Enemies should just stay apart! He should tell her that next time he was alone with her.

And then, an idea was sprouting inside his head. Maybe if he scared them all somehow to make them scatter away, he could get some alone time with her.

So that's what he did.

After Frodo and Allie caught up with the group, he went to hide behind a tombstone a few feet in front of them. When the others reached his spot, he suddenly stood up from behind it with his arms raised and let out a blood curdling scream that resonated loudly inside the cemetery and bounced between the graves.

Fatty, Estella, Merry, Allie and Frodo all jumped out of their skins and echoed the scream. Both Merry and Frodo let go of their lamps, which fell to the ground and rolled away, sending eerie rays of light everywhere into the darkness. Then, Merry's lamp went off.

Estella was now screaming at the top of her lungs, searching for Merry and her brother in the semi-darkness. Allie felt her blood freeze and her breathing stop as voices were shouting and yelling in the night all around her and eerie shapes twisted and moved.

In the darkness, she suddenly saw a shadow slowly making its way towards her with seemingly extended arms. She screamed at the top of her lungs and bolted into the night, running blindly among the graves, the light from her lamp jerking this way and that. In her mind, she saw the headless ghost chasing after her, with blood oozing from its neck, and she screamed harder.

She hadn't run for more than a few meters when she collided into something and was sent sprawling on the ground. Her lamp flew out of her hands and landed somewhere in the bushes. It was now all dark around her and she thought she heard Merry's voice shouting from somewhere in the distance.

She saw a form sprawled on the ground beside her and started screaming again, throwing punches at it with her eyes snap shut. Was it a corpse?

But then suddenly that sprawled form seized her wrist and forced her arm down, and a voice was now trying to drown out her screams.

"Be quiet!" the voice finally screamed, and she closed her mouth at once, eyes wide.

"F-Frodo?"

"Yes!" Frodo panted, sitting up beside her. "You scared me bad when you ran into me like that and started screeching like a ghost! Where is your lamp?"

She looked around jerkily, her nerves on fire. "I… I lost it! Frodo, did you see that thing?"

"What thing?"

"Something was coming towards me!" she scrutinized the dark with distress. "It was right there."

Frodo looked around into the darkness. Suddenly, he heard her breath hitch. And yes, right there in front of him, he thought he saw a shadow darker than the rest of the air making its way towards them slowly. It seemed to have human shape, until suddenly it lurched forward and then started crawling on all fours.

Allie's mouth opened in a silent scream as fear sapped all the energy out of her at once. But suddenly, a hand closed around hers and she was being pulled to her feet, and then pulled forward, and she was running again in the night. She heard Frodo's panting breath and footsteps beside her, and forced herself to mimic his strides. They ran and ran, not knowing where they were going, until they threw themselves behind a hedge and crouched down low to regain their breath.

Allie crouched there with her back to the hay and her knees against her chest. All she could hear was the wild pounding of her heart until she thought it would burst if it beat any harder. Beside her, Frodo was breathing fast as well, his head bent the other side to see if anything was coming.

They stayed there until their heart rates decreased a little and their breathing went somewhat back to normal. They strained their eyes and ears but everything seemed quiet now. Nothing was moving, and nothing could be heard. The faint moonlight falling on the grass at their feet was the only source of light.

The lad and the lass slowly stared up at each other and realized at the same time that their hands were still clutched together so tight that it was painful. Taking a deep breath, Allie forced her stiff fingers to relax and let go of Frodo's hand clumsily, and Frodo did the same.

"Is it gone?" she whispered.

"I think so."

"What was it?"

"I don't know."

"I want to go back to the tents now," she whimpered weakly, looking around her.

Frodo nudged her shoulder. "I thought you were not scared."

She tried to glare at him but failed. "Well, I am now."

"I am too," he admitted.

Slowly, they stood up to peer above the hay, but only saw gravestones. Allie looked in front of them and suddenly pointed. "I think I see the line of bushes over there!"

Frodo squinted hard and saw what she saw. He led the way, and she followed after him jumpily, still casting nervous glances in all directions. They reached the bushes and stepped over them. There were trees all around them now and the ground felt muddy.

"Where are we?" she wondered worriedly.

Frodo looked around. "I think I know this place. The ground is a little swampy here, so be careful."

He started walking and she followed closely after him. Suddenly, she saw a flicker of green light among the trees and froze. After awhile, it appeared again, floating in the air. Pulling on Frodo's shirt, she made him pause and look, not trusting herself to speak.

Frodo saw the light, but instead of freaking out like she did, he actually relaxed.

"You don't know what those are?" he asked.

She shook her head stiffly.

He smiled a little and then pulled her along. They walked into a clearing, pushed some bushes aside, and suddenly Allie felt her breath catch in her throat. In front of her were hundreds of fireflies, some floating in the air like blobs of green light and some posed on the ground or on the bushes, flicking their wings leisurely.

She stepped into the middle of the clearing and all of them took flight at once, disturbed by the movement. Eyes wide, she watched them float and dance all around her, casting their light onto her body and the surrounding trees. Frodo came to join her and reached out his hand to catch one.

"This is… this is beautiful…" she gasped with awe in her voice.

"Yes," Frodo agreed softly.

Seeing all of them dance around her, she felt she was standing in a different world altogether. It was just magical.

"Give me your hand." Frodo's voice pulled her out of her reverie.

She extended her hand slowly and opened up her palm, letting Frodo put a firefly there. She looked at Frodo, her eyes wide, and Frodo just smiled. "Hold on to this. It will light the way back to the tents."

She returned his smile and closed her hand around the little dot of light, feeling the insect's legs scratch a little at her palm. It was a comforting feeling.

After that, Frodo and she left the clearing with the fireflies, and after walking some more across the woods, they finally saw their tents and the campfire. Merry, Fatty, Estella and Berilac were already back. Berilac looked grumpy and the others were not speaking to him. After seeing that Frodo and Allie came back together, he looked even grumpier.

When Allie learned that Berilac was the one who had been after her after scaring the living wits out of them in the first place, she got so angry she pounced on him and started pulling on his hair with all her strength. None of the others interfered, even when Berilac begged them to.

Normally, Frodo would have interfered, but this time he thought Berilac's predicament was well deserved. As he watched Allie now tackling their wayward friend to the ground, he suddenly thought back to the frightened look he had seen on her face as they were crouching low behind the hay with their hands clutched together. He had never seen her that scared before, and perhaps because of that, he had come to remember again that she was just a girl. Lately, when they waged war against each other or played tricks on each other, he had managed to forget it completely, just like Merry.

But at that moment in the cemetery, he had remembered it again, and it had felt strange.

He sighed. Why was he having these thoughts in the first place? He was just in need of some serious sleep.

* * *

Allie was excited. It was finally the day of Frodo's birthday and it would be the first time that she would get to attend such a huge birthday party. Last year, she remembered how disappointed she had been when their father had been home all day, which had prevented her and Robin from going.

She was the most excited about the large quantities of food that all the hobbits said would be present. For a moment, her thoughts wandered to Robin and she felt guilty at the perspective of eating so much without him, but then she brushed it aside. Who knew what kind of good things he was having at that Newbury village without her?

She walked aimlessly around the marketplace, wondering what she could do to kill time until the party. Her steps unconsciously led her to the Bridge Inn where her father worked. It seemed like he was becoming more and more popular at the Inn. Just the other day, she had overheard some adults say that now that he was a wonderful hobbit once they had gotten to know him. She really wondered what had made him change. It had happened when she was in Tuckborough, so perhaps Robin could tell her more details once he returned. For some reason, she felt uneasy about all of this.

When she reached the entrance of the Inn, she saw a cart pulled by two ponies standing in front of it. The owner was nowhere to be seen. Was it perhaps a traveller staying at the inn?

Suddenly, yelling voices reached her ears. Frowning, she skirted around the Inn and saw Marroc talking to somebody by the River. The person seemed rather familiar, but he had his back to her and she couldn't see his face. Sneaking behind some bushes, she slowly crawled until she could hear what they were saying.

She was surprised and a little alarmed by the distress she read on her father's face.

"What do you mean, disappeared?" he was yelling.

"Like I said," the other hobbit was saying with equal distress in his voice, "he just did not return that evening! We looked around everywhere. I think…"

But Marroc was now seizing the other by the collar of his shirt and had started shouting furiously, cutting the other off. Allie peered between the leaves and knitted her brow upon recognizing the old Boffin. What did this mean? Had Robin returned already?

"What you are saying doesn't make any sense!" Marroc screamed wildly. "What do you mean my son disappeared, eh?"

Allie felt her blood turn to ice.

"Find him right now! How dare you come back here without him? Go back there and find him right now!" Marroc was screaming. The old Boffin let himself be tossed around with a defeated expression on his face.

And then Allie was in between them, clinging onto Boffin's arm, her voice shrill and overpowering that of her father's. "You're lying!" she yelled. "Where is Robin? He has come back with you, hasn't he?"

"Allie!" Marroc called out and tried to push her back, but she obstinately hung onto Boffin's arm, grey eyes pleading. "Where is he? Please! Where is my brother?"

Boffin eyed her with resignation. "I sent him on an errand to Crickhollow to pick up some things for me. I think he might have gotten lost or…" His eyes looked troubled for a moment. "I went to Crickhollow myself to look for him when he did not come back that evening. Some folk said they saw a lad lurking around the Hay. So he might have… for the sake of all that is good… went into the Old Forest. I thought perhaps they had made a mistake, so I searched around Crickhollow for two days. I really did not wish to give up and come back without him, but I thought I should at least let you know."

Allie was now shaking her head. _No. No. NO. No. NO!_

Marroc pushed Boffin back anxiously. "Shut up! How can I accept this? Have you not heard what I said? You better go into that forest right now and find him. Right now! How can you lose him? How can you lose my boy? I will kill you if you don't find him!"

Marroc looked so fierce that the old Boffin was scared he might really kill him on the spot. But still, he said: "The Old Forest is not a normal forest. No one who's gone in has ever come back."

Allie sank on her knees with her head in her hands, staring unblinkingly at the ground. "Nonononono," she mumbled crazily. "This is not true. He's not in the forest. He's not there." And suddenly her eyes were blazing. "You gave him money?" she demanded him urgently. "For the errand, you gave him money?"

"Well… yes," Boffin answered.

Upon hearing this, she sprang back up and ran away.

"Where are you going?" Marroc screamed after her, but she didn't hear him.

She made a beeline for her house with a single thought in her head. Her brother had run away. He must have. Boffin must have given him a lot of money for the errand, and in addition to everything he'd already earned, it must have been enough. She knew where he kept the money hidden from their father. It was under the ground at the foot of a tree behind the hill they lived in. She was sure that he had taken the money before leaving.

He was probably already in Bree now, setting things up, and soon he would come and get her. Her brother hadn't gone into some stupid forest. He was fine and alive and he would come for her.

She rushed to the spot by the tree and started digging the earth frantically, soon revealing a jar in ceramics. She dug it out and pulled the lid open. The jar fell out of her trembling hands, causing a handful of coins to roll out. She was shaking her head. No, no, no, there had to be some mistake. Was she meant to take the money to him then? She thought hard. Had he said anything about meeting him in Bree with the money? She couldn't remember, she couldn't _think_.

Without knowing, she stumbled back to her smial and looked inside the place she had been living in for the past year. It suddenly seemed like a stranger's home. Her haunted eyes swiped the room searching for her brother. This had to be a bad joke. This couldn't be happening.

She pulled the closet door open and started rummaging through all the clothes madly until she found a shirt that belonged to Robin. With unsteady hands she took it and buried her face in it. A knot was quickly forming in her throat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the pink scarf he had given her for Yule lying entwined with some other clothes. She jerked it free and clutched that to her chest as well.

Did he really get lost in the Old Forest then? Did that mean he was dead? No, the Old Forest was just a legend! She didn't believe in all that nonsense! He was probably still lost in the woods awaiting rescue! And no one dared go in to look for him because they all thought it was haunted!

She rushed out of her house with the pink scarf clenched tight in her hands and started running. She would go in there and save him if no one else dared! He was probably waiting for her. He would never die so easily. He couldn't do this to her after all his promises of a better life.

She thought she saw Merry standing at the side of the road calling out to her but she didn't have the time to stop. She had to keep going as fast as she could. She only had one purpose now. She remembered Frodo saying that the Forest was to the East, and so started running in that direction like the wind.

She ran and ran; her lungs were burning but she didn't have time to breathe. She thought she heard someone calling out her name but ignored it and ran even faster. How long would it take her to get there? She hoped it would be before nightfall.

And suddenly, she was being jerked to a halt. Screaming, she struggled with whoever was restraining her, not holding back when she punched them in the chest to break free. She wouldn't allow anyone to interfere! She had to find her brother!

Before she had run a few steps more, she was jerked to a halt again, and this time she turned around, ready to hit whoever it was. She didn't even blink when she came face to face with Frodo's stunned eyes.

"Allie! What is wrong?" he screamed.

Why was he screaming at her?

And then she noticed the wild scream that was coming out of her own lips, a scream so desperate it felt like it belonged to someone else. She forced herself to stop making that sound and panted to regain her breath. Frodo's hands were on her shoulders, holding her in place as she shook uncontrollably.

"I need to go!" Her voice was thin and desperate. "I need to go find him!"

"Who? Find who?" Frodo was insisting, not letting her go.

"My brother! He's gone! He's disappeared! He's left me!" she shouted.

And then she was pulling free from a stunned Frodo and walking ahead unsteadily again. She didn't have time to waste.

After a few minutes, Frodo was now walking by her side again but not trying to stop her. He seemed in shock. "What do you mean? I thought he was with the old Boffin!"

Allie informed him in a thin voice of what had happened up until now, her words coming out in a rushed and messy string of words that sounded incoherent to her own ears. But they must have made some sense, because Frodo listened, and what he heard left him anxious and dumbfounded.

"That cannot be! That cannot be!" He kept repeating, feeling shaken to the core.

"I'm going to find him, and I'm going to save him," she declared shakily.

"By going into the Forest? That is suicidal! I cannot let you do it!"

Allie ignored him and started walking faster. Frodo could only follow her helplessly, mind still reeling from the implication of Robin being lost in there. He didn't dare think of it, but if it was true, then Robin was lost! No one had ever come back alive from a trip into those woods.

They walked until finally, the High Hay appeared far ahead in front of them in a dark green line. Now that their target was in sight, Allie started running again. She heard Frodo calling out to her but ran even faster. She wouldn't hesitate now. Her brother was just beyond that Hay, waiting for her.

She finally reached the Hay and started looking around frantically for a way to cross it. A few meters to the right, she spotted a small opening at waist level. She let herself fall on all fours and started pulling at the opening in the Hay, ripping the leaves and branches, thus effectively enlarging it.

Frodo finally caught up with her and tried to stop her, but she just pushed his hands aside.

"I have to find him, Frodo," she said with a fire burning in her eyes. "I have to!"

"You don't understand!" Frodo shouted in alarm, eyeing the Hay frighteningly. "If he's gone in there, there is no more hope!"

"NO! You are wrong!" she yelled and then started crawling across the opening she had made.

Frodo didn't know what he should do. He wanted to find Robin, but he knew this Forest better than she did. He knew it wasn't just ordinary trees on the other side. If he let her go inside, she would die as well! His mind was screaming at him to stop right there and not take action, but instead, he took a deep breath, let himself fall on all fours and crawled through the opening, following her into the Old Forest. No matter how he did it, he had to bring her back.

On the other side, he stood up uncertainly. The woods were dark even though it was daytime. He saw Allie standing a few feet ahead of him, staring around with wide eyes and shivering a little. As soon as he made a step to start walking towards her, the foliage of the trees started bristling and swaying as though under the influence of an invisible wind.

"Robin!" Allie screamed out, and shrank back when the echoes of her own voice became amplified by the trees and resonated darkly all around her.

The rustling of leaves was a little louder now and was accompanied by sinister creaking sounds that seemed to come from the bark and roots.

Frodo seized her arm gently but she still jumped at the contact.

"Easy!" he whispered. "You have to listen to me now, Allie. You have to listen to me, for once. Come with me."

Allie was clearly scared but still shook her head stubbornly. "Not without Robin! Not without him!"

She made a few steps and then stared back at the Hay. What she saw suddenly made her gasp out loud. A sort of vine-like plant was growing on their side of the Hay, and under her very eyes, was now creeping towards the opening in the Hay that led out of the Forest. If the plant continued its progression, soon the opening would be closed!

Frodo saw that as well and without a word pulled her by the wrist in direction of the Hay.

"What about Robin?" she cried out in dismay.

"If we don't get out, we will both be dead!" Frodo screamed as he continued pulling at her.

The vines were creeping faster along the Hay now, as though they had heard Frodo's words and understood them. She gasped a little and finally allowed herself to be pulled into a mad dash towards the hedge. Frodo reached it first and, spotting a stone nearby, he picked it up and started hatching at the vines while urging her to go first.

Allie dropped on her hands and knees and started crawling through the aperture. The rough branches of the Hay pulled at her clothes as though trying to hinder her progression, but she struggled against them until she emerged back on the other side.

Frodo let the stone drop and quickly followed after her. He felt a vine rolling itself around his ankle, but he pulled against it with all his strength and managed to break free. The trees were now murmuring angrily all behind him and the creaking sounds seemed nearer. With a last effort, he flew through the opening and landed on the grass on the safe side of the Hay.

Looking back, he saw the vines grow all over the opening, solidly sealing it closed.

"That was close," he let out in a shaky voice as he let himself fall on his back, enjoying the feeling of the sun on his face as he took in deep calming breaths.

Allie stood there staring vacantly at the Hay, shivering uncontrollably. She hugged her arms and attempted in vain to stop the trembling. She had never seen such a horrible place in her whole life. It seemed like some of the supernatural things out there did exist. If her brother had been in there for more than a day, then maybe Boffin was right. Maybe it really was a lost cause.

"Maybe he didn't go in there, Allie," Frodo said gently by her side. "No one actually saw him going in there, so maybe there is another explanation."

"Maybe he ran away," Allie murmured quietly.

Frodo gave a single nod. "Maybe he was tired of working and he wanted to escape somewhere for a little while. Let's just hope for the best before jumping to conclusions."

Allie looked into Frodo's worried eyes. Even though deep inside she was certain that her brother was lost forever, on the surface she tried believing in Frodo's words, just for a moment. When she tried smiling, however, she felt tears pouring out of her eyes instead to form two warm streams down her cheeks.

"Allie…" Frodo started.

Her breathing quickened as more tears poured out of her eyes as though someone had opened a tap inside of her. She kept picturing Robin lying somewhere in those dark woods, strangled by vines or buried underneath the roots... her poor brother who did not deserve to die in such horrible fashion when he never had anything good happen to him yet, when his life hadn't even started. If he was going to disappear like this, why did he have to promise her so many times that things would get better one day? Why did he have to keep giving her hope? And why did he have to go breaking all his promises and leaving her all by herself?

She hugged herself harder and sank slowly on her knees, rocking a little back and forth as heart-wrenching sobs racked her entire body. "Liar… liar… liar…"

Her hand tightened around the pink scarf that she had never let go of until now, and she brought it to her chest. "Robin… please… please come back…I don't even want the hair curlers. Just come back now. Please…"

She had never felt so alone in this world. What would she do without her brother?

Frodo stood beside her like a statue, not knowing what to do or how to comfort her. He was only a child after all. They both were. He never had to deal with loss before, but when it dawned on him that he probably would never see his friend again, he felt tears coming as well. However, he swallowed them back. He had to be strong right now, at least until he saw Allie back home.

_Robin_ - he thought - _you promised you would be back in a month. What happened to you?_

* * *

_That's it for a wrap, guys! :D Please leave some comments! :)_

**CrashingUpward**: awww thanks so much. That def made my day :D . Tell me how you like the story so far :)


	13. Mother

**Mother**

Allie sobbed and sobbed until there were no more tears left in her. Then, she simply stayed kneeling on the ground with on her forehead against the grass and her scarf clutched in her fist. Even though she was separated from the Forest by the Hay, she started hearing menacing sounds coming from the other side as the sun lowered in the horizon. A chill invaded her bones.

She looked up from her position, eyes red and swollen, tired from all the crying, and was a little surprised to see Frodo lied down on the grass a few feet away, staring up into the dusk that was now slowly filling the skies. In her grief, she had forgotten that he was still there. At the sight of him, however, she felt a little less alone, and also grateful that he hadn't left her all by herself.

When Frodo heard her approach, he sprung up onto his feet and scrutinized her worriedly. "Are you all right?"

"No. But I will be."

He was shuffling uncomfortably, not daring to look at her in the eye and not knowing what to say.

"Let's go. I hate this place," she murmured.

Frodo immediately nodded. They started walking back home side by side in silence.

"You know," Frodo started, because the silence was making him jittery, "I still think your brother might be out there somewhere. Perhaps it is wishful thinking, but as I pondered over this matter, I have reached the conclusion that there is no guarantee he really went into the Forest."

"The only other option is that he's run away without me. I don't think that is a much better alternative."

Frodo stuck his hands into his pockets. "No, it is not. But from what I know of him, I can be certain that he would never leave you on purpose, Allie. He cares a lot about you."

If it was a few days ago, she would have agreed with him, but not now. She didn't want to think about her brother anymore, for every time she did, the tears wanted to come back. If he really cared about her, he would not have left her all alone. He would not have been wandering around that stupid Forest in the first place.

They walked in silence until they reached the outskirts of Bucklebury. The night had fallen and a few stars were now twinkling in the dark. She stopped upon seeing the lights in the village and felt the shivering coming back. Frodo noticed she was not walking anymore and stopped to wait for her.

"What am I going to do now, Frodo?" she asked in a small voice.

Frodo had never heard her sound so lost. Slowly, he walked back to where she was standing. "Robin made me promise not to tell you about this but I think you will be comforted if I share this with you. Before he left, he asked me to make sure you would be all right until he comes back."

Allie looked up at him, her eyes glinting a little in the dark.

"Is that why you followed me around so much?"

Frodo kicked away a pebble without looking at her. "Yes."

"Oh," she looked down. "I'm so sorry I bothered you with the pebbles, then."

He blinked uncomfortably. He was not used to her apologizing to him in this fashion. She sounded too sad and defeated, completely different from the strong lass he knew.

"Don't worry about it. I always thought of it as a game between us."

She looked up again with evening shadows dancing on her moist cheeks. "A game," she repeated. "Yes, I suppose that's what it was."

He patted her shoulder awkwardly. "To go back to that promise with your brother, I want you to know that I never break my promises. So, until the day he comes back, I will look after you. I will make sure that you are all right. You don't have to be scared or feel alone. I can't believe I'm saying this but… you can come throw pebbles at my window anytime if that will make you feel better."

At this, she finally sketched a smile and wiped her cheeks dry. "Do you mean it? You can't take it back now that you have said it."

"I will not." He then crossed his arms. "But one is to hope that you will not do it too often."

"I will remember your offer."

After that, they walked into the village until they reached Buck Hill. She halted and turned towards him. "I can't believe I'm saying this either but… thank you for today. And sorry for ruining your birthday. And happy birthday."

Frodo had completely forgotten it was his birthday and that he had planned a big party like usual. His parents had to be worried about where he had been all day to not show up to his own party. But in light of the circumstances, it didn't seem like a big deal.

"My friend's gone missing. I feel worse about that than about missing the party."

Allie smiled sadly. "I'm really glad you were his friend. I know I have said otherwise before, but being your friend really was the best thing that has happened to him ever since we came here."

"I know. He told me the same thing. I really wanted to celebrate my birthday with him this year too, and make him see the lights on the river."

"The lights?"

Frodo told her about the custom of putting candles in the river and watching them drift away like a ribbon of light. Allie thought it really must have been a pretty sight, and she would have loved to see it herself.

Before they parted, Frodo said: "Remember what I told you. I am sincere in wanting to make sure that you are all right."

Allie thought about it for a moment. "Does that mean we are no longer enemies?"

Frodo paused to ponder that, but when he saw her wide and confused eyes looking back at him in the darkness, he just shrugged. "We can be frenemies."

At this, she frowned. "What?"

Frodo scratched his neck. "I mean that as friends and enemies. Both at the same time."

He felt glad when she actually chuckled at this. She seemed a little more like her old self when she stated: "Only you could come up with such a silly name."

But she didn't say that she didn't like it, and she didn't say not to use it, so Frodo took it as a sign of acceptance.

And so it was on these terms that they parted ways.

That night, Frodo told his parents and also his friends about what had happened to Robin. Everyone was shocked and felt sorry for the lass and her father. Primula said she was going to pay Marroc a visit the next day to try and see whether there was anything she could help them with.

After all the guests left, Drogo asked whether Frodo wanted anything to eat, but Frodo wasn't hungry. He just went to his bedroom and lied down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling vacantly. It felt strange to know that he might never see Robin again. It made him want to cry again. The last time he had seen Robin was when they were at the fold.

If he had known back then, he wouldn't have let Robin go to Newbury with Boffin. If only he could turn back time…

His thoughts were scattered when a knock came against his window. He jerked up on his bed and approached it cautiously. Just when he was getting near it, another pebble came flying by to bounce against the glass. He pushed the window open and sighed. She sure did not waste time, did she?

However, this time, when Allie saw Frodo appear behind the window, she stood up from behind the bushes and approached him.

"Well?" Frodo asked with one eyebrow raised.

"I'm not coming here to bother you," she hurried up to say, "I came here to give you something."

Frodo just looked at her with a questioning look in his eyes. She smiled a little and then took out a bottle from behind her back. Before Frodo could get a clear look of what was inside, she had squeezed the lid open and was now shaking the contents into his room by the open window.

Soon, little green dots of light started floating around in his room, lightning up the darkness. There were twelve of them.

Twelve little fireflies.

"I kept thinking of the lights on the river," Allie explained, "and I know this is probably nothing compared to that, but it's better than no lights at all for your birthday."

Frodo was staring at the fireflies in awe. It felt like the whole atmosphere of his room was different. It felt as though he was in the woods. "This is wonderful!" he couldn't help exclaiming. "This is even better than the lights on the river!"

"Really?"

He nodded, beaming. It was dark, and he couldn't see her face very well, but it seemed like she was beaming too for the first time that day. He went to lean against the windowsill. "Thanks, Allie."

"It's nothing," she replied.

After a moment of silence in which they both watched the fireflies shed their light, he said: "You know, I think I'm starting to like this whole frenemy status."

She seemed a little puzzled but her tone was soft when she replied: "Me too."

That night, as Frodo lied on his bed, tracking the green dots of light floating around in his room, he couldn't stop smiling at finally being half-friends with Allie. He didn't know he would be that happy. He was probably simply relieved at the prospect of not getting any more nasty surprises in the future when he would be least expecting them.

But maybe it was something more. Maybe he now really wanted to be friends with her. He thought back to the events of the day and realized that he had seen more sides to her that day than in the whole year he had known her. He had seen her desperate, he had seen her sobbing her heart out, being vulnerable and scared, like just any other girl; but he had also seen her being nice to him and smiling at him in happiness. It really was a lot to take in.

It was weird, but it wasn't bad.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, a lot of people went to see Marroc to give him their condolences and offer support. The adults all had sympathetic looks in their eyes whenever Allie walked by the marketplace; they would give her food for free and tried to be nice to her, which she appreciated but didn't feel comfortable with. She couldn't deny that the free food was a plus, however.

Even though it was summer, she now wore her pink scarf like a belt around her waist, for that would make her feel like her brother was still here with her. Her feelings were all messed up whenever she thought of him; sometimes she felt sadness and longing, but other times she just felt anger. She didn't know whether she could ever forgive him for disappearing like this, and yet she could not bear the thought of being separated from the scarf he had given her. On the 25th, she almost expected him to come back to her just like he had promised, but of course, the road remained obstinately deserted as she sat in front of her door and waited.

Marroc was back to yelling at her now when they were alone in the smial. She didn't know he had cared so much for Robin, but now that he was gone, Marroc seemed lost and devastated, and he would take it all out on her most of the time. He still didn't dare hit her, but he always yelled at her and told her how useless she was. She didn't let the yelling get to her, but she still tried to stay out of his presence as much as she could.

She tried to play with Merry and the others just like before, but her heart wasn't in the right place. She couldn't stop thinking about her brother, couldn't stop _hoping_. She found herself seeking out Frodo's company more because he was the only one who understood even a little of what she was going through. At first, she mainly talked to Frodo about Robin, but then she started telling him a little about her father and other things. Ever since he had seen her breaking down in the front of the Old Forest, she felt like it wouldn't hurt her pride to tell him of her problems, since he had already seen the worst of her.

Frodo, to her surprise, was quite a good listener. He seemed to understand what she was feeling. That is why, when strange things started happening around her with the other kids, Frodo was the first hobbit she told.

"What do you mean, strange things?" Frodo asked.

She shrugged. "You know those hobbits that live by the marketplace? Well, today they were playing by the sheep fold. Nothing interesting really, just walking on the fence, but I was bored so I went to join them. When they saw me coming, they all looked at me strangely and then ran away."

Frodo went back to reading his book. "You probably said or did something. Don't even play innocent with me. I know you."

Allie impatiently removed the book from his hands. "I really didn't do anything to them! And they are not the only ones. The kids living beside the river behaved in the same way this afternoon. Also, I noticed that it's not just the kids. The adults look at me strangely as well. Before, they used to give me food for free because they felt sorry for me and my family, but now every time I go to the marketplace, they just fall silent and then pretend they don't see me."

"Good job alienating the adults as well," Frodo sighed.

"Frodo, I'm being serious here."

Frodo bit his smile back as he scrutinized her grey eyes. She did look quite unsettled. "Well, do you any idea why this is happening?"

"Have you heard something from your friends?"

He shifted a little under the intensity of her gaze. "Not really."

"Why don't you ask Folco and Fatty then?"

Frodo took a moment to understand what she was implying. "You are not saying that they are ignoring you too?"

She sighed. "Yes, that's right. Them too."

Frodo rubbed his chin with a troubled expression. "I will talk to Fatty and Folco the next time I see them. What about Merry and Berilac?"

"Nothing is changed with them."

"That is good, then. Let me find out more. Perhaps you are just over-thinking this," he finished as he seized his book back from her limp hand.

"Perhaps."

That day, after leaving Frodo, she continued musing over the strange behaviour of the other kids. She knew she wasn't imagining it. It had actually started with some adults looking at her warily as though they were scared she would bite them if they got too close. She had brushed it off then, because adult behaviour had never made much sense to her. But then, it had spread to the kids as well. The kids did not look scared of her when they ignored her, but they did have an unreadable expression on their faces. It was starting to make her ill at ease and to get on her nerves both at the same time. She really just ought to catch one of those kids and threaten them to tell her what their problem was. Since she wasn't close to them, she could afford to lose their friendship that way. However, Folco and Fatty were different. She considered them as friends now, and so their behaviour hurt more.

She sat up on the fence of the fold, a blade of grass between her teeth, and looked at the fields without seeing them. Her reverie was suddenly interrupted by a series of sobs coming from within the field. A young hobbit lass was sprawled on the grass and was crying her heart out while hugging her knee. She must have tripped and fallen.

She wondered for a moment whether she should go to her, but then the girl's mother came. She picked up the girl off the ground and into her arms and started patting her back gently while whispering comforting words in her ear. The little girl pointed at her scratched knee, still whimpering, and her mother blew on it softly.

Allie watched the scene unblinkingly. It wasn't often that she remembered she didn't have a mother, but it was in moments like these that she really wondered how it would feel like to have one. All the mothers she had seen so far were nice and loving. Merry's mom always made sure Merry was well dressed in the winter before going out to play in the snow. Merry always rolled his eyes when she rolled his scarf tightly around his neck and pulled his hat down low to cover his ears, but Allie had always been envious of that.

When she was over to Pippin's house, Pippin's mom would come to kiss each of them goodnight every night before bed. Sometimes, she'd even tell them a story or two. Frodo's mom always cooked delicious snacks for her when she was over at Frodo's smial. She probably liked Frodo's mom the best because she was so pretty and gentle, and she never made her feel nervous like the other adults sometimes did.

Allie wondered whether her own mother would have been like that too, whether she would have rolled her scarf around her neck in the winter, whether she would have told her bedside stories, and whether she would have baked cookies and cakes for her to accompany the afternoon tea. But more importantly, she wondered if her father would be like that if her mother was still around. Her mother would have protected her, she was sure of that. Her mother would never let any of them get hurt. Perhaps her mother would have been able to find Robin and bring him back.

She also wondered what her mother looked like; she didn't even have a portrait of her. She knew her father had one though, for sometimes he would stare at it and cry when he thought Robin and her were sleeping. However, she didn't know where he kept it. She had tried looking around the house, but had never found it.

She shook her head. It wouldn't do her any good to think about those useless things. She was faring well without a mother, and she would continue that way. It wasn't anything worth getting sad over, she told herself severely when she felt herself getting melancholic.

She suddenly spotted Merry walking in the fields a few meters away. Taking a deep breath to shake off the last remnants of what-would-have-been's, she sprinted over to catch up with him. When Merry saw her arrive, he marked a pause, and then stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, Merry. What do you want to do today?"

"Uh… I don't know." Merry kicked a pebble away.

"You must have some idea. I feel like we have not played for a long time."

Merry threw her a quick glance and then shrugged. Allie froze, because she recognized that look; she had been seeing it everywhere lately.

"Not you too?" she exploded.

"What do you mean?" Merry spoke up defensively, but his shifting eyes betrayed his nervousness.

Allie grabbed his arm and stared at him until finally he lifted his head to meet her eyes. They looked at each other for a moment before Merry let out a huge sigh and clasped a handful of hair impatiently. "Ah, I don't know! I don't know! It doesn't make any sense!"

"What?" she urged. "Tell me what's going on with you and everybody else! Please!"

Merry looked at her and pouted. "For some reason, my mom has forbidding me from playing with you, unless I want to get punished real bad," he grunted in response as she gaped.

"Why? What did I do?"

"I don't know! She wouldn't tell me!" Merry replied, exasperated. "I mean, why all of a sudden? This is all very strange!"

"So all the parents are telling their kids that they can't play with me?" Allie mused, confused and upset.

Merry's features fell. "It seems like it." He then glanced around nervously. "Look, can we talk somewhere else? I don't want anyone to see us. I mean, what if I get grounded again? Already with school I don't have a lot of free time, and now this!"

Allie nodded and followed Merry into the woods with a heavy heart. She didn't understand why this was happening.

"I…," Merry hesitated, "I don't know if I should tell you this, but I suppose you should know. I actually caught a conversation between my mom and dad last night. My dad is actually opposed to me getting grounded for playing with you, saying he didn't believe the rumors, but my mom said something like… "she's dangerous and a bad influence". I suppose she was referring to you?" Merry blinked confusedly and looked at Allie, who was now frowning deeply.

"How can I be dangerous? Who said that about me?"

Merry didn't know. Allie asked him a few more questions, but he didn't know anything more. Soon, he had to leave, for he was nervous about his mom finding out. He begged for her understanding and she said, yes of course. However, at the sight of his retreating back getting further and further away from her through the woods, she couldn't help feeling betrayed and lonely.

The next day, she was relieved when she saw Frodo waiting for her on the tree platform. She quickly climbed up to join him and saw that he looked a little anxious.

"I have some bad news," he said rapidly, not wasting time.

She nodded darkly. "I already heard. Merry told me what's been going on."

Frodo frowned. "Yes, I saw Fatty yesterday and he told me his parents were going to make him skip dinner if he was ever seen playing with you. I suppose that is the worst thing that can happen to him."

"But why?" she cried out in frustration. "Did I do something bad? They say I'm dangerous and a bad influence."

Frodo saw her nibbling her bottom lip. It was true that she had never been a saint, but to call her dangerous was too much.

"Well, I talked to my own parents," he said uncertainly, "they said they have heard the rumors about you being trouble. My parents, however, don't easily believe in unfounded rumors."

Allie sighed in relief. "Does that mean you have not been forbidden from seeing me?"

Frodo nodded. "Well, I would meet up with you anyway even if my parents had told me not to. I usually listen to them, but in this case I know you have not done anything wrong. We should first find out who has been the one spreading all these rumors. And for what reason."

Allie nodded seriously, her cheeks a little flushed from both anguish and determination. As she thought of the possible people who could hold a grudge against her, suddenly something came forth from the back of her mind. It was the image of her father speaking conspiratorially with a couple of other hobbits in front of the Inn. But it couldn't be, could it? Why would her father try to alienate her friends? Frodo caught on immediately. "You just thought of someone, didn't you?"

Allie nodded hesitantly. "My father."

He was taken aback. "Your father? Why would he do such a thing?"

"It is only a suspicion at this stage. I need to find proof first." Her grey eyes turned to him. "And you are coming with me."

Frodo knew that protesting would be useless, so he just sighed to mark his assent.

That night, Frodo and she sneaked into the Bridge Inn at peak hour, when the place was full and folk wouldn't notice them too much. Everywhere, hobbits were drinking, talking and laughing loudly. Frodo spotted Marroc in the kitchen, doing the dishes. There was a fireplace at the far corner of the Inn and a stock of wood was piled neatly in the center of the hearth. Since it was summer, it wasn't being used. The two hobbits sneaked behind the pile of wood and crouched down low to avoid being seen. It wasn't ideal as hiding place because there wasn't a lot of space, but it would have to do.

They waited there until their muscles cramped up and became numb. It was so hot that they were both sweating as they crouched down low with their sides touching.

Finally, as the night progressed, Marroc came out of the kitchen and sat down at a table after asking for a beer. Immediately, he was joined by a group of middle-aged hobbits. It was lucky that they were sitting at a table near the fireplace. Allie and Frodo perked up their ears.

However, all they talked about were grownup topics that bore little interest to them. Allie was starting to fall asleep against Frodo when the latter suddenly nudged her back to alertness. She rubbed her eyes and listened again:

"Any luck concerning your son yet?" one of the hobbits was asking.

Marroc sighed and wiped at his face with a weary hand. "That old useless fellow has gone back to Crickhollow with some of his friends to see if they can get lucky in finding him. I'd rather look for him myself, however. I don't trust those fellows one bit. But I cannot leave. There is work to be done here."

"The innkeeper would understand if you took a leave," another said.

Marroc simply took a sip of his beer. The silence stretched until another hobbit interrupted it by sighing. "Marroc, you certainly are not lucky with your kids. One of them disappears and the other one is… - he marked a pause, suddenly feeling ill at ease – well, you know."

Allie's heart was pounding. They were talking about her.

"What do you plan to do with her?" the third hobbit asked. "I don't feel comfortable letting her wander out there among our kids. What if she does something to them too?"

Marroc's black eyes swiped the room briefly, but they were the last ones there. "Well, truth be told, that is why I kept her inside our smial when we first came here. It wasn't because she was shy. I'm sorry and I'm not proud of having lied to all of you about this, but back then I didn't know what you would all think of me if I had told you the truth."

The first hobbit quickly clasped a hand on Marroc's shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry about a thing. We understand."

"As long as you keep an eye on her and tell your kids to steer clear, there shouldn't be a problem."

"But still…" the second hobbit started worriedly.

"I'll be responsible for her if anything happens," Marroc reassured him. "Trust me."

The other three all sighed and finished their beers. Then, they got up and left.

The innkeeper, an old hobbit with a round stomach, came to take their mugs to the kitchen. Allie and Frodo took advantage of the deserted room to quickly sneak outside.

Allie was more than troubled. First, she didn't feel good at all for having guessed right about her father; and second, she had no idea what her father was talking about. Why was he telling them to be wary of her? And why did the adults believe him? She liked to think of herself as being strong and important sometimes, but she knew deep down that she was only a child, and what could a child do that could be so terrible?

She was pulled to a halt by Frodo's hand on her forearm. "Are you all right?" he inquired, his blue eyes shining with concern and also confusion at the situation.

"I need to find out what he has told them about me," she answered him anxiously.

Frodo was shaking his head in dismay. "What I don't understand is why he would even say those things about you. Isn't he your father?"

Allie gaped at his pale face partially illuminated by moonlight, and entwined her hands together to stop them from shaking. She had tried so hard to keep her personal problems a secret from her friends, but for the first time, she truly wanted to talk about it openly. Besides, Frodo was not her friend, but her frenemy.

"Allie?"

She refocused her attention on his face, and took a deep, decisive breath.

"It is because my father doesn't like me. He never has and probably never will. He's not like your father, or Merry's father. He is mean to me and yells at me. Sometimes… he also hurts me."

She spoke as evenly as she could, not looking at Frodo, feeling shame heat up her cheeks. When finally she allowed herself to lift up her gaze, she encountered his puzzled and horrified eyes.

She offered him a small smile. "Now you know my secret."

Frodo just stared at her in shocked silence for a long time. "I don't know what to say," he finally let out in a whisper.

She simply shrugged. "It's all right. You don't have to say anything."

Frodo remembered all the times he had seen bruises on her body, and felt sick. "Should we tell the adults about this? Perhaps they can help!"

Allie's eyes widened. "No!" she immediately replied, and then her features softened. "These days it hasn't been as bad as before. Besides, even if we tell the adults, do you think they will believe me? When they seem to have been blinded by my father's lies so easily? No, first, I think I need to find out what he has told them, and why."

Frodo could only nod stiffly.

"Also," she pursued, "you are the only person I've ever told about this. I don't want you to tell anyone else. Please."

"Yes… I can keep a secret well." He marked a pause. "Did… did Robin also get beaten up?"

"Sometimes," she confessed.

Frodo raised a hand to pull on his black curls. He'd always wondered what her secret was, but now that he finally knew, he had the impression that it destroyed everything he knew about her and Robin. He started to remember all the past events in a new light, and it was not for the best.

Allie smiled tentatively at him. "Thanks for hearing me out. These days it feels like you are the only friend or frenemy or whatever that I've got left."

Frodo smiled back at her. "Well, I'm loyal like that. Do you only realize it now?"

She smacked him on the head a little. "Don't get too cocky about it."

He rubbed his head petulantly.

"In any case, I better go home for today. We will talk more about all this tomorrow."

"We will figure out a solution. And Allie, if ever-" he interrupted himself, trying to find the right words, "if ever it gets bad again, you should come over to my smial."

She nodded gratefully. "I will keep that in mind."

"Good night, then."

"Good night."

They started walking in opposite directions. After a few steps, she turned to look at his retreating back fading into the night. If she had known at that moment that she wouldn't see him again for quite awhile, then she would have at least hugged him once just like she had hugged her brother before he had left to never return.

* * *

The answer to all her questions came to her the next day from a quite unexpected source. It was late afternoon and she was wandering by herself along fields that felt lonely and unfriendly lately, when she suddenly saw someone running towards her among the grass.

She squinted, and couldn't hide her surprise when she recognized Berilac. She was sure that he had been prohibited from seeing her, just like the other kids, so what on earth was he doing here?

He finally caught up with her, panting with his hands on his knees. When he finally raised his face to look into her stunned eyes, he managed to give her a lopsided smile.

"Berilac?"

"I don't believe them," he managed to get out between two breaths. "I don't believe you did it, Allie. It doesn't matter what the adults say, I just know you are not that type of person."

Allie could only stand there and wait for him to continue, her heart suddenly pounding.

"I overheard my parents last night when they were talking. At first I thought it was a joke because it was just ridiculous. And it became even more ridiculous after I realized they were serious! Clearly they have forgotten that you were the one who pulled me out of that river and saved my life."

Allie raised an eyebrow because this was the first time that he openly admitted this fact since the incident.

Berilac was pursuing: "If they remembered that, they wouldn't be saying that you are a murderer, or whatnot, and mean it. I was wondering why I couldn't play with you, but now that I know…"

"Wait, what?" Allie cried out, her hands clenching into fists unconsciously.

Berilac just stared at her with a deep frown. "You didn't know what the rumors were saying about you?"

"I'm a… murderer?" she whispered, eyes wide.

This was way too much, even for her father. Why would he say such a thing? Anger was cursing through her veins now. How dare he?

"Allie!" Berilac shouted after her.

But she was already gone. She ran with all her strength until she reached the Bridge Inn. Then, she burst in, pushing the door so hard that it slammed against the wall. The few pairs of eyes that were in the room all turned to her, showing the same look of hostile fear.

She ignored them and stomped to the kitchen, pushing past the innkeeper. Her father saw her coming and put down the broomstick he was holding. "Allie! Who do you think you are, coming in here like this?"

She looked at him with anger and fear, and then turned to the few puzzled hobbits at the tables. "I'm not a murderer!" she yelled to them at the top of her voice. "I don't know what he has told you, but it's all lies!"

However, everyone just kept staring at her, as immobile as statues. Marroc threw an apologetic smile at the innkeeper beside him and grabbed his daughter's arm. "Come on, Allie, that's enough! How can you make a scene in here?"

"I don't care! Why are you telling such dreadful lies about me? WHY?" she yelled as she tried to break free.

However, Marroc held on to her firmly and, for just a minute, his black eyes grew hard and beastly, before he turned around to throw another apologetic smile towards the innkeeper. "I'm really sorry about this. Just give me a second to handle this."

The innkeeper was more than happy to let him step out of the inn, pulling the savage-looking little girl behind him.

Marroc's hand was so tight around her arm that it hurt, but she bit her lip and didn't allow herself to make a sound. He dragged her silently across the fields, avoiding the road, until finally they reached an isolated patch of trees. Marroc looked around before letting go of her abruptly.

She massaged the bruised area with one hand while glowing at her father.

"How dare you tell everyone that I'm a murderer?" she finally yelled out sharply. "There is a limit to the kind of lies you are allowed to tell!"

"Lies? Who said it is a lie?" His black eyes were hard as steel and merciless. "You have become more and more daring lately, haven't you? Now you even dare come to my work place and embarrass me like that in front of other folk?"

He clenched his hand into a fist, struggling to keep his calm. Allie looked up at him bravely. "How dare you say it is not a lie?" she uttered ferociously. "Who have I killed then, father? Tell me!"

"You don't remember?" Marroc articulated slowly. "You have done such a monstrous thing and you don't even remember? Or are you just pretending?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about. Remember what?"

Marroc was stepping progressively closer to her, an ominous glint in his eye. "It seems like you really have forgotten. How lucky for your conscience! Shall I help you remember then?"

Allie slowly backed away, her grey eyes blazing.

"Bree," Marroc was saying, his expression dark and cold. "The Prancing Pony. Butterbeer's assistant, Tom. That is who you killed."

Allie's eyes widened slightly. _Tom._

"Do you think it makes me proud to admit that my own flesh and blood has done such an atrocious thing? But you have given me no choice. I wanted to start anew here, away from the demons of the past, demons that _you _have created. But you have given me no choice. What did I tell you was that single thing you should not speak of to anyone no matter what? Huh? I told you to keep your mouth shut about _this_!"

The slap landed on her face before she could see it coming. Her cheek flared up immediately, but she barely felt it, for her mind was reeling.

Tom. That name was familiar.

"I never said a thing to the adults about how you treat me!" she suddenly yelled back.

Marroc slapped her again. "Shut up, you dirty liar! Folk came to suspect something was off. Who else could have told them apart from you?"

Allie's eyes shone with repressed anger. "I don't know and I don't care, because it was not me! I could have revealed everything when Frodo's parents came to visit that time, but I didn't. And now I sourly regret it!"

Marroc shushed her with another slap. "Only three of us knew about this. If it wasn't you, then are you saying it was your brother? How dare you blame this on him? Whatever happened to him is all your fault!" her father screamed until a vein on his forehead popped. "I tell you what I think. That whole forest deal is nonsense! Robin is a smart kid. He would never go into the woods all by himself, at night. No, instead of that, he has run away, that's what he did! He took most of his clothes with him when he left. Why would he do that unless he planned to never return here? And do you know why he ran away? It was all because of you! He knew that you killed someone. Don't look at me like that, you horrible lass! He never talked about it with you out of compassion, but that kind of knowledge is too much for a young lad to handle. I don't blame him for running away from this hell; I would have done the same thing, but I'm your father, and therefore I'm responsible for you and your mistakes!"

Allie was slowly shaking her head. No, this couldn't be. It was all lies! Robin would never leave her on purpose! And he didn't know about any murder because there was none!

"You still haven't remembered?" Marroc sneered with disgust. "Shall I tell you all the morbid details one by one then?"

"No," Allie shook her head, covering her ears.

"It was a rainy night," Marroc screamed out, his eyes wide, his hands trembling, "you were at the inn and you and those horrible friends of yours were trying to steal food from the kitchen. Tom saw you and tried to kick you out. You got angry, and there was a knife on the kitchen table."

"NO!" Allie shouted wildly, tossing her head from side to side. "It didn't happen! You can't make me believe it!"

"Tom saw you taking the knife and he tried asking you nicely to put it down. But you didn't. You pointed it at him instead and made him walk backwards out of the kitchen until he reached the stairs! That's how I saw you when I passed by the kitchen. The sight of me distracted you, however, and Tom tried to take advantage of that moment to take the knife away from you. But can you guess what you did? You pitiless girl! You just stabbed him in the stomach!"

"NO!" she screamed as hard as she could, clasping her head between her hands so hard her ears rang.

She looked up at her father with terror on her face. Suddenly, his father's face and the savage smile of satisfaction he was wearing started turning red. All started turning red.

As red as blood. _Blood on the floor. Blood everywhere._

His father's voice reached her ears, sounding distant. "He grabbed you when you stabbed him, and you both rolled down the stairs to land in a heap in front of the front door."

_Stairs. Blood along the stairs, on each wooden step. A body against her face, still warm, and red liquid oozing out of it, expanding into a puddle all around them. Screams. Screams everywhere._

She screamed and screamed until the images disappeared.

Marroc was standing in front of her, shaking with laughter, his hands trembling a little as he put them underneath his arms.

"I didn't do it," she mumbled, "it wasn't me. I didn't do it. I didn't stab him. I didn't kill him. It wasn't me."

"You can deny it all you want!" Marroc yelled ferociously. "But it will not change the truth!"

Suddenly, she leapt towards him, grabbed the front of his shirt and maniacally tried to shake him. "Don't you dare turn me into a monster on top of everything you have done to me! Don't you dare! I know I didn't do it! You can't make me believe that!"

He grabbed her hair with one hand and pulled her face away from his to peer down into her frightened, angry and confused eyes. "Turn you into a monster?" he spat the words into her face, "you don't need me for that. You've always been one since the day you were born. Murder is in your blood. Murder is the first thing you did upon coming into this world!" His voice was rising in volume with each word he uttered. "Your mother! You killed her when she gave birth to you, you horrible, repugnant creature! You took the life out of my dear, beloved Jessamine."

Tears were now pouring out of his eyes. "My gentle and sweet wife. She was so happy when she was pregnant with you. But the moment you came out of her womb, you killed her! You were wailing like the demon that you are, selfishly, after your mother had breathed her last breath. I knew there and then that I wouldn't ever forgive you for being born! If not for her asking me on her death bed to take care of you, to protect you, I would have..."

His hands tightened around her shoulders. Allie let her father toss her around like a rag doll, her mind shattered by what she was hearing. Her mother… her mother died because of her? That couldn't be. It must be another lie. She eyed his weeping and angry and wounded face and suddenly felt sick.

He let go of her when she crumbled to the ground and puked out the contents of her stomach onto the grass.

"You disgusting thing," he finally said, and then wiped his tears dry furiously. "I cannot stand the sight of you."

Allie didn't even hear him leave. She just sat where she was, shoulders hunched and hair falling into her eyes, with a trace of saliva still dripping from the corner of her mouth.

She stayed there unmoving for hours and hours it seemed, until the sun started to set in the West, behind the trees and hills, coloring the sky the color of blood.

Finally, she stood up on unsteady and numb legs and staggered in front of her, not aware of where she was going. Out of habit, her feet brought her back to her smial. She just stared at her house vacantly in the shadows of twilight, and it looked empty, cold and threatening. It looked like it was accusing her too. She turned away from the sight of it.

She walked and walked until the Brandywine River came into view, its waters orange and red. She walked along its bank slowly, dragging her feet, with her eyes locked on a point in the faraway horizon. Many times she fell and scratched her knees, but every time she stood back up and continued going, following the river up north.

Was her life really a mistake? She was a murderer who had killed her own mother. She pictured her face in one of those posters of wanted people that covered the walls of Bree. If folk knew the truth behind her birth, she had no doubt that they would chase her down like the murderer that she was. They would catch her and bring her to justice and behead her, as by the laws of Bree.

A movement on the river caught her attention. For a moment, she stopped, and just stared at the blurry shape in front of her until her gaze focused with painful slowness. She blinked twice, almost lethargically, and made out a white boat floating in the middle of the Brandywine River, a few meters away from shore. There were two hobbits on that boat that she recognized as Frodo's parents. Their faces were turned towards the West, towards the direction of the sun which had presently set behind the hills. As she watched, the two hobbits slowly wound up in a tight and loving embrace.

She didn't know why the sight of them brought tears to her eyes. She didn't even cry when her father said all those horrible things to her, and she didn't cry when thinking of her deceased mother. But now, seeing Frodo's parents sitting on the boat, so peaceful and so happy, the tears rolled down her cheeks one after the other, without a sound.

She watched them for a little longer before turning away and walking into the woods. She couldn't stay here any longer. This was no place for someone like her, someone tainted... and dirty. She needed to be anywhere but here. She realized in the far corner of her mind that she had no money, but she didn't care. She would walk until she reached somewhere or until she dropped dead. She didn't care anymore either way.

Allie didn't know then that if she had waited only five more minutes before leaving, she would have seen Drogo standing up to row; she would have seen him lose his balance and flip the boat over in his fall; she would have seen Primula falling into the water as the boat turned; she would have heard them calling for help as they drowned. Perhaps, if only she had left five minutes later, she would have been able to save them.

* * *

_There you go! I might not be able to update as fast as before though because exams are coming up. Also, I need to write the rest. Yeah, up until now is everything I had written before posting the story. I will try to update fast only if I know that enough people are interested in reading this, because otherwise I will just write the next chunk first and then post that little by little, which means there might be a delay. So once again, if you are out there, I encourage you to just make your presence known to me by clicking on that link called "review" down there, lol._

**CrashingUpward_: _**Well here you go with another chapter! :D I will try to post once a week, but like I just said, I need to write the rest first! I'm glad you enjoyed the little war bit between Frodo and Allie haha. I always have fun writing about them tormenting each other because it's sort of cute :p Yes, there is actually something I'm planning to do with Berilac too, so stay posted for that lolol. Thanks for reading and commenting, I appreciate it a lot, as always! :)_  
_


	14. The Past

**The Past**

Allie stared up at the big doors leading into Bree. She had walked for three days and this was where she had ended up. She was hungry and she was tired, but now that she was here, she wasn't so sure that she wanted to go in after all. What was she planning to do here anyway?

_Maybe Robin is here._

She shook her head and almost got angry at herself for still keeping that hope alive. But maybe, just maybe, if her father had been right about everything else, then Robin just _might_ be here.

She caressed the pink scarf with her fingers to give herself some countenance before stepping beyond the threshold of Bree. The streets were just as she remembered them to be: wide, stone-paved, filled with Big People. She hadn't seen Big People in almost two years, and seeing them again felt unnatural. She kept close to the walls, walking with all her senses in alert until she came face to face with a familiar sight.

The Prancing Pony.

At this time of day, the common room of the inn was almost deserted, if not for some elderly people and housewives chatting in the corner. The proprietor of the inn, Barliman Butterbur, was leisurely wiping a few glasses clean with a tissue. Allie hid an instant just beyond the threshold, worried about what he might do if he saw her. They weren't exactly on amicable terms ever since she and her friends had taken his stool away while he was about to sit on it.

At that moment, an arm reached out from above her head to push the door open. A moment later, a large person bypassed her to step inside the inn. A bell rang, announcing the arrival of a new guest. Butterbur stared up from his chore and gave out his best friendly smile. "Welcome, traveller!"

His eyes then travelled down to where Allie was standing, frozen on the spot at being found out. Butterbur's eyes gradually widened in surprise and recognition upon seeing her. "Isn't that little Allie? What are you doing you here? Is your father back in town?"

Allie looked up at him and shook her head vividly, making her blonde curls fly. Butterbur left his counter to stop in front of her with his hands on his hips as he bent down to scan her from head to toe. Allie made herself small and stared at his black worn-out boots.

"Where is your father then? And look at the state you are in! Did you run across the countryside to get here? How can a young girl like you be so dirty?" He sighed at her unresponsiveness. "Come with me!"

Without giving her room to protest, he took her by the arm and half lifted her into the air to carry her inside the inn.

* * *

"Reg! Slow down!" Lena cried out, running breathlessly to catch up with the long and angry strides of her taller friend.

"I'm going to kill him!" Reginard groaned, his brown eyes sending angry sparks with each step he took.

"Yes, all right, but slow down first!"

Reg paused so suddenly that she literally ran into his chest. "Oww!" Without a word, Reg took her hand and started pulling her along as he resumed his quick pace towards the Prancing Pony.

"That Bob!" he muttered under his breath. "How dare he trick me? I gave him thirty coins for a fake!"

"It's your fault that you got tricked though!" Lena couldn't help saying in a disapproving tone.

He pretended he didn't hear her. And besides, they were here. Reginard bypassed the main entrance to the inn and stepped inside the courtyard through a side door. Then, he entered the stables and vividly looked around for any sign of Bob, the hobbit who worked at the stables. However, beside a couple of horses chewing grains of oats passively, no other soul was in sight.

Not giving up, Reg pulled Lena along and entered the inn through the back door, determined to settle the score with Bob today once and for all. He walked along the halls of the inn, peering inside some of the bedrooms, which were all empty, and finally reached the kitchens. Only one cook could be seen, preparing something over the stove.

"Is he hiding?" Reg cried out impatiently. "Did he know I was coming?"

Lena was now running ahead of him, delightedly opening all the doors and giggling as she shut them close again with a loud bang. Reg followed her until finally they reached the common room. Butterbur was nowhere in sight, and as they looked around, they saw that the room was filled with the usual afternoon customers except for a young hobbit lass who seemed to be their age.

They could clearly see her blonde hair shimmering a little in the dark as she ate. However, since she had her back turned to them, they couldn't see her face. Reg noticed Lena looking in that direction as well. "Who's that?"

Lena just shrugged.

"She's a hobbit like us," Reg remarked, "but there isn't a single hobbit in Bree that I'm not familiar with, so she must be new." His features turned malicious, and Lena immediately knew what he was thinking of. Masking her giggles, she nodded and followed him as he started making his way towards the blonde girl in big silent steps.

When they were less than a meter away from her, Reg reached out his hand to touch her. But the girl suddenly turned around and tapped her spoon to both of their foreheads.

Reg and Lena both let out a shriek, but not because of the pain from being hit with a spoon. No, it was because…

"Allie?" Reg exclaimed disbelievingly, rubbing his eyes, and then opening them up again to stare at her, his mouth hanging open.

"It's Allie!" Lena echoed just as disbelievingly.

"You guys haven't improved at all," Allie said with a huge grin, "I saw you coming from three meters away!"

"How?" Reg pouted. "We were being extra careful!"

Allie showed them the back of her spoon which she had been using as a mirror. Reg sighed in defeat, and then he started grinning. Lena threw herself on the chair and hugged Allie so hard she thought her bones were being crushed.

"What are you doing here?" came Lena's muffled voice.

Allie patted Lena's back and Reg noticed that her eyes had turned sad at Lena's question.

"It's a long story," Allie answered.

"Well, where is…" Reg looked around and dropped his voice, "your father?"

"I came by myself."

Reg frowned. "Did you run away from home?"

"I guess you could say that."

Lena ended the hug and addressed a big smile to her. "I thought I'd never see you again! I'm so glad you are back! We can go back to playing, just like before!"

Allie smiled back. "I missed you both as well! Every time I thought back to Bree and the things we used to do together, I have always felt such nostalgia!"

She quickly finished her bread and soup and then stood up.

"Are you going somewhere?" Reg inquired.

She nodded. "To my old house."

The other two didn't ask her why, but just followed her as she stepped out into the streets. On the way there, Reg told her why Lena and he were at the Prancing Pony at such an hour. He told her how Bob had sold him a totally fake Oliphant tusk.

"I thought it was real, but when I brought it home and showed it to my fahter, he said it was just a piece of wood! Then he got angry at me and threatened to punish me for losing his money! Bob is so dead!"

"That is why I said it's your own fault," Lena muttered reprovingly, "you should have asked for my opinion first. Why did you just go ahead and buy it without consulting me?"

Allie was giggling. "Reg, you are still so naïve. I cannot believe it. That's why everybody can still trick you like this."

Reginard's features settled into an unhappy frown.

They walked for a moment in silence, until Allie hesitantly asked: "Say… have any of you two… um… seen Robin here?"

"Your brother? No? Didn't he go to the Shire with you?" Lena answered.

"Yes. Yes, he did."

"Why? Did he run away from home too?"

"No, it's not that," Allie was quick to answer. "It's nothing. He told me once that he went all the way to Bree and then back. I just wanted to confirm with you two if that was true."

Reg shrugged. "Well, I don't know if it's true or not, but we sure haven't seen him around ever since the day you left."

Lena couldn't help noticing that Allie looked disappointed at this. There was also another look in her eyes that she couldn't manage to read. But before she could open her mouth and ask her about it, Allie had stopped walking. They were standing in front of her old house, a small low building close to the ground with little round windows and a white door.

Allie took a deep breath and then pushed the door open. It creaked a little as it yielded way, raising a small cloud of dust off the floor. She frowned slightly because she thought it would be locked. Perhaps someone else had gotten in after they left. She didn't know who or why though. It wasn't as though they had left anything valuable behind for any thief to plunder.

The three hobbits stepped into the empty house silently, staring around with wide eyes. Allie was stricken by how familiar the place still felt after almost two years of absence. This was the place she had grown up in; this was home.

"Why did you want to come here?" Reg asked, and his voice echoed a little on the walls.

"I just wanted to see it again," she whispered.

Reg shrugged and started chatting with Lena while Allie made the tour of the house, lingering an instant in every room as memories came flooding back. This was where she had first learned how to cook, standing on a stool, with Robin by her side freaking out at the way she was holding the knife. And this was where the roof had suddenly collapsed one day, scaring Reg badly as he was standing close to the spot where the piece of ceiling had crashed down. And here was where Robin and she huddled in front of the fireplace by a cold winter night, eating sweet potatoes.

She felt teary at all those memories of Robin coming back. Did he really believe she killed someone? Did he really run away because he couldn't stand knowing it anymore? Well, he should have told her then; she'd rather have him yell at her for having done such a deed than keep it all inside and then abandoning her when he couldn't deal with it anymore.

She finally came to her father's bedroom. She hesitated for a moment, but then pushed the door open. The room was dark and empty of furniture except for a heavy dresser in the corner that they hadn't been able to bring with them to the Shire. She opened all the drawers and saw that they were empty. She didn't know what she had expected to find there in the first place.

She was about to turn around and leave when suddenly something caught her attention. It was the corner of a piece of paper stuck underneath the dresser. Frowning slightly, she lied down on her stomach on the dusty floor and reached a hand under the drawer to retrieve it. It took her a while, but finally she managed to make it slide towards her.

It was blank.

She sighed and took it as she stood back up. And then she froze. Because it wasn't blank on the other side. It was a drawn portrait.

A portrait of her mother.

She recognized her right away because the hobbit in the portrait looked so much like the lass she saw every time she looked into the mirror. The same blonde curly hair (although her mother's was more well-kept), the same grey eyes, and a stunning smile that raised her round cheeks and made her eyes crinkle impishly.

Her mother was beautiful. Allie's heart was pounding hard, but she didn't know whether it was due to seeing her mother's face for the first time, or whether due to the guilt she felt for being here in this world instead of her.

"Allie? Are you done?" came Reg's voice from the adjacent room.

Her head jerked up, causing a tear to roll down her cheek and land on the portrait in her hands. She quickly wiped her eyes dry and then stuck it inside her pocket.

"Yes! I'm coming!"

Over the next few days, Reg's father found her a room at the Prancing Pony where she could stay. Since his father worked at the inn, he said he would give her the room free of charge. Allie thanked him for it.

She wanted to make some pocket money, so she started working at the inn as well, carrying food and beer to the customers in the evening when Butterbur could use a hand. At first, Reg and Lena made fun of her for doing all that, but soon, they joined her because they were bored. They competed to see who could serve the most customers in one night, and that went well until Lena tripped and dropped a plate of spaghetti on some man's bald head.

"Oh look! You've grown some hair!" his friend mocked him.

Needless to say, the man in question wasn't happy. After that incident, Butterbur threatened to kick the three of them out if they were not more careful.

Allie also found that working at the inn was great for hearing gossip about the outside world. All sorts of strange travellers came for a stop there, and late at night, they would whisper stories about wars, alliances, Wizards, and the White City. Allie sometimes crawled underneath their tables to listen to them speak, all the while trying to avoid the men's boots.

"What's up with the guard at the door?" one of the man grunted, displeased. "Never seen him before."

"Don't you know?" another answered. "They say that soon a curfew might be instilled here in Bree. No more strangers allowed in or out after sunset and before sunrise. They will build a door with locks and close down the entrance for the night."

"Why's that?"

The second man's voice dropped to a whisper: "they say strange people have been roaming around town lately."

"That's all? There have always been strange folk roaming around the streets of Bree."

"Yes, but you wouldn't believe where these ones come from."

"Enlighten me."

A pause, and then: "Ever heard of the Shire?"

Allie froze for a second.

"Shire?" The first man pondered.

"You know, that place inhabited by the Halflings. Right, just like that fellow Hob over there. I don't blame you for not knowing too much about them, for not a lot of people do. The Halflings have no enemies as far I know, so why would all those strange Men roam around their land?"

"The strangers might roam around the Shire, but that does not mean they come from there. Perhaps they have business with Bree-folk. Some kind of illegal trade?"

"That thought has crossed my mind as well. I've seen them passing by Bree with carts and carts of things that may or may not be food."

The first man crossed his legs and Allie shuffled a little to stay away from them.

"And where are those carts going?"

"I'm not sure. Some have hypothesized that they are going to Rohan, or beyond."

"If that is really the case, maybe a war is brewing."

"Maybe that Grey Wizard has something to do with it."

Allie perked up her ears. Did he really say Wizard?

"I was here years ago when the Grey Wizard was seen leaving Bree with a group of Dwarves and a Halfling. It was the strangest company I've ever seen. They say that they slayed the dragon Smaug and brought back all his treasures."

"It is true," a rough voice suddenly interrupted them. There was a knock on the table, like a cup being settled down, and then another pair of legs appeared underneath the table, but they were shorter. Allie mused that they must belong to a Dwarf.

"I know one of the Dwarves who was in Gandalf the Grey's company. They slaughtered the dragon indeed! It's a story worth telling, if you are willing to listen."

Allie was excited, having a feeling that this would be a great story, until she heard Butterbur shouting her name above the ruckus in the common room. Groaning in disappointment, she glided from underneath the table, and under the two Men and the Dwarf's astounded gaze, she swiftly disappeared into the crowd.

And so the days and nights passed, and she was starting to settle down into a routine with her new life in Bree. Reginard, Lena and she sometimes ran their mischief in the streets of town, just like they used to in the old days. It all felt so soothing and familiar, almost as though she had never left at all; and yet a growing sense of apprehension kept growing in the pit of her stomach for a reason she didn't know.

Maybe it was due to all those horrifying and yet amazing stories she kept hearing at the inn. Amidst the usual gossip, a new story was now running amok the travellers. Several were worried about huge dogs they saw at the outskirts of Bree and the Shire. Huge dogs that looked like wolves. But others contradicted them, saying they were not wolves, just really hairy human beings who crawled on all fours. The conclusion was that it was all very disturbing, and folk now feared for their safety as they travelled at night. However, no bodies had yet been found bitten or clawed to death in a ditch on the side of the road, so many hypothesized that the stories were just that, stories.

Allie found herself quite excited at the perspective of wolves being real. She wondered if she'd ever see one someday.

On a rainy evening three weeks after she came to Bree, she sat at the table at the inn with Reg and Lena. Lena had managed to steal some beer from the kitchens and now they took turns tasting it for the first time. Allie made a face when the drink ran down her throat.

"Pwah! This is disgusting!" she exclaimed as she wiped at her mouth.

Reg made a grimace as well. "I agree."

"You two know nothing!" Lena said, and then she gulped down some more forcefully. "All the grownups drink this. It must be good!"

"What do you think of the story with the wolves?" Allie suddenly asked.

"Myth," Reg answered immediately.

"Never seen one myself," Lena concurred. "Although I'd like to! I love dogs!"

Reg rolled his eyes. "Wolves are not dogs."

"Yes they are. They are just big dogs. Nothing to be scared of."

Reg and Lena started an argument on how a dog was or was not like a wolf. Allie sighed a little and looked outside the window, at the rain splattering against the pane of glass. It sure was raining a lot tonight. The sound of the rain was slowly making her zone out. Suddenly, her ears seemed to unplug and the hubbub around her seemed loud once more. She distractedly shifted her gaze from the window to the main door, watching absent-mindedly as two new travellers stood just outside the door in the circle of light.

Suddenly, she gasped and quickly blinked forcefully a few times. She had just felt something like a string of light piercing her skull from temple to temple.

She scrunched her forehead for a moment and shut her eyes closed. When she opened them again, there was a middle-aged hobbit standing by the door of the inn, holding it open as the two travellers stepped in. The hobbit had a friendly face and warm brown eyes. He turned his head and, when he saw Allie staring at him, he winked.

Allie was so surprised that she looked away for a second. When she focused back on the door again, the two travellers were still there shaking their wet coats but there was no sight of the hobbit anymore.

"Tom," she whispered with a chill.

"What?" she heard Lena ask, as though from far away.

She blinked again. She remembered Tom now. He was the door keeper of the inn as well as Butterbur's assistant, just like her father had told her. Tom was always nice to her and gave her pastries when Butterbur wasn't looking. She didn't know what to think. If Tom existed, did that mean everything else her father had told her was true?

"What happened to Tom?" she murmured.

Reg and Lena glanced at each other uncomfortably.

"Tom?" Reg started, "why are you asking this? I thought you didn't want to talk about him anymore."

Allie felt deterred but didn't let it show. "I didn't want to talk about him? Why?"

Reg, however, still looked uneasy. It was Lena who finally said: "Well, because he died."

She felt her heart start to pound, fast and hard, against her ribcage. "How?"

Now it was Lena's turn to look uneasy. "Look, I also don't want to talk about what happened that day anymore."

"Did I kill him?"

Reg and Lena both gaped at her, but her grey eyes remained steady. "Well? Did I?"

Reg stood up abruptly. "No! Of course not! What's wrong with you? Why are you saying such a thing?"

Relief washed over her for a second, but then she was on her guard again. No, this was too easy. "It's because I don't remember what happened."

"What? You don't remember?" Lena frowned. "You never told us that! We thought you… well you just never mentioned Tom at all after that night, so we just assumed you wanted to put the events behind you."

Allie gave a small sigh. "No, it was because I have no memories of that night. But you both were there, weren't you? Can you tell me what happened?"

Lena sighed, looked at Reg who gave her an uncertain look, and decided to speak up: "What do you remember exactly about Tom? All I can say is that we were all very close to him because he was the nicest person here, but I think he liked you the best. He'd always give you all the tasty things to eat, and he comforted you every time your father was mean to you."

Allie started nodding. It was coming back to her a little now.

"Well that night…it was just an accident." Lena bit her lip. "That night, Reg, me and you, we were playing in the kitchen and stealing some food, nothing out of the ordinary, but the inn was receiving some important guests and the cooks were really busy. They got angry at us for being in their way and yelled at us to get out. But we didn't listen to them, so one of the cooks went to complain to your father, who was drinking in the common room. Your father came up the stairs to the kitchen, stinking of beer. He pulled you out of the kitchen as Reg and I hid behind the wall. He was yelling a lot and you were crying, and then Tom appeared and snatched you away from him. They started having an argument. Your father tried taking you away from Tom, but Tom wouldn't let him. And then in the middle of the fight both Tom and you… stumbled down the stairs."

Lena gulped.

"We were so scared and worried about you," Reg continued, "we ran down the stairs, and there was a lot of blood around the both of you. Now that I think about it, where did all that blood come from? Perhaps Tom broke his head against the steps as he fell down. In any case, it was just a freaky sight."

Allie was shaking visibly now. When Reg stopped speaking, she just shook her head helplessly. "I don't remember it. Any of it. How can this be?"

She then thought back to what her father had told her. "Perhaps Tom was bleeding because… he got stabbed with a knife? Was I holding a knife?"

"What?" Reg exclaimed, eyes wide. "Of course not! It's one thing not to remember, but where are you getting all these crazy ideas from?"

She remained silent.

Suddenly, she leapt up from the table and walked into the crowd. Reg and Lena threw a puzzled glance at each other but followed her as she ran up the stairs to the kitchen.

It was busy.

_Almost as busy as it was that night._ That string of light crossed her temples again.

She rubbed her eyes and then slowly walked to the top of the stairs.

_It was here that it happened,_ she thought to herself. _It was here where…_

And suddenly, just like that, everything came flooding back at once.

**Flash back**

"Come back here!" Marroc yelled.

"No!"

Marroc leapt towards her and seized her by the arm, after which he dragged her out of the kitchen. In the hallway, he stopped and shook her a little by the shoulder. "Why are you behaving like this again? I got another complaint tonight!"

"Let go of me!" she screamed, on the verge of tears.

He grabbed her by the hair. "Don't use that tone with me, do you hear?"

Allie just started crying in earnest.

"Stop crying! I hate it when you cry!"

He was going to slap her when his hand was suddenly stopped by Tom, whose usually warm eyes now glinted with a cold light.

"What are you doing? Let go!" Marroc protested loudly.

"Please, sir, you should not be hitting a child in public," Tom replied evenly.

"Don't tell me how to educate my own children! She's always behaving like a disobedient brat."

"That is simply how kids are. Please, let go of her now. You are hurting her."

Since Marroc was not complying, Tom pulled Allie out of his grasp, and Allie quickly went to hug his leg. "Tom!" she whimpered.

Marroc's eyes narrowed at the scene. "Allie, don't make me do this. Come back here right now and let's go home."

Allie shook her head no and clang to Tom even harder. Tom responded by draping a protective arm around her shivering frame. "I will calm her down and then send her home myself. And you need to calm down too, sir. You must have had quite a lot to drink tonight."

Marroc clenched his fist. "Who the hell are you to tell me that? And who the hell are you to hold on to my daughter? Let go of her immediately or I will report you! Do you want to lose your job?"

"First, I will report you to the authorities for child abuse," Tom answered placidly, "and I don't suppose you want that."

Marroc looked like he could kill him on the spot. "You will pay for this!" he growled menacingly, eyes cold. "Don't think we are finished, Tom!"

He then stomped away in direction of the kitchen.

Tom watched him go, and then reported his attention back to the young lass who was still sniffing a little beside him. He carried her up in his arms and gave her a big encouraging smile.

"Are you all right, Allie?"

Allie just hid her face against his shoulder.

"Come on, big girls don't cry. And you are a big girl, aren't you?" There was no response. "Come on, if you continue crying, you will make me sad too. And you don't want that, do you?"

Allie finally raised her head to look at him, and slowly shook her head while wiping her eyes dry decisively. "I won't cry anymore if you don't like it, I promise."

Tom smiled. "There's a good girl."

He was about to say something else when his traits hardened again. Allie peered above her shoulder and felt a chill when she saw that her father was walking back towards them, wearing a hard smirk. Tom tightened his arms around her and stepped back a little when Marroc stumbled into his space, reeking of alcohol.

"Please go home already, sir," Tom tried to reason with him in a voice he wanted soothing.

"You think you've won, huh?" Marroc spat. "Give me the girl, Tom. Or I will kill you."

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that. Not when you are in this state."

Suddenly, Tom blemished a little when he felt the point of a blade against his stomach. Marroc must have concealed the knife under his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Tom whispered in alarm, backing away small step by small step as Marroc followed him forward, holding the knife unsteadily.

Allie was trying hard not to cry at the sight of the blade.

Grinning, Marroc brandished the knife a little. "Stop moving!"

Tom obeyed immediately. It wasn't like he had any more room to back off anyway because he was now at the top of the stairs. He threw a glance over his shoulder and his muscles tensed. Allie saw Reg and Lena peering from behind the wall, but they couldn't see what her father was doing from that angle. She was desperate for some help but she didn't dare cry out.

Marroc suddenly seized her arm with his free hand, making her shriek a little. "Now, give-me-the-girl," he snarled, emphasizing every word.

"Stop it father. It's dangerous!" she managed to cry out feebly.

"It's dangerous!" he mimicked her in a high pitched voice, and then threw his head back and laughed.

Tom took advantage of his inattention to abruptly seize the wrist holding the knife with his own free hand. He tried to knock the knife out of Marroc's grasp, but Marroc snapped back to attentiveness before he could do so. Letting out a cry of rage, he started to push the knife forward, while Tom pushed his wrist back, struggling to keep the point of the blade away from his stomach.

"Why are doing this, dad?" Allie shrieked. "Stop it! How can you be so cruel? I wish you would stop doing hurtful things like this! I wish you were not my father!"

At those words, Marroc's head snapped up. The beastly glint in his black eyes made her sob get strangled in her throat.

"Really?" he spat. "Well, keep wishing!"

With his free hand he punched Tom in the gut and took advantage of his temporary lapse of strength to brutally thrust the knife forward, inserting the blade deeply inside flesh. Tom gasped and backed off by two steps as Marroc pulled out the now tainted knife.

"Tom!" Allie shrieked in alarm.

Tom's foot met nothingness as he stepped another step back. His balance shifted and he started tumbling backwards. He tightened his hold on Allie and pressed her head against his chest as they both rolled down the stairs.

When the series of shocks was over, Allie found herself lying on top of Tom at the bottom of the stairs. Blood was gushing out from his wound and she could feel his body twitching underneath her own. There was blood on her too, so much blood, all over her face. She wanted to scream, but instead only managed to spit out blood that had gotten inside her mouth.

She felt so sick and yet was too shocked and weak to get away from Tom's iron grip. There was blood in her eyes now too, and everything turned red.

**End of flash back**

"…wrong? Allie?"

Allie realized she was on her knees at top of the stairs, digging her nails into her face as she cried silently. She glanced up uncertainly and managed to make out Reg's worried face beyond her tears. She took a deep breath and forced herself to come back to the present and to calm down. Lena grabbed her arm apprehensively when she tried to stand up.

"Are you… did you remember what happened that night?" Lena asked in a small voice.

Allie simply nodded and wiped at her tears with the back of her hand.

"Did they bury him?" she finally asked in a low voice.

Reg knew she was talking about Tom. "Yes, in the cemetery behind town. It's the second to last grave in the last section of the cemetery. Do you remember? We used to draw stuff on the gravestones there." He tried to give her a cheerful smile, but she just looked at him seriously with red eyes.

Then, without a word, she ran down the stairs, trying not to remember the bloody marks that Tom's body had left on each step as he rolled down with her in his arms. She heard Lena calling out her name, but then Reg's voice told her to just let her be. Allie was secretly grateful to him; she needed to do this alone. Everything had happened because of her. If only she had obeyed her father and gone home with him that night… Tom would still be alive.

Her feelings were a mass of confusion. She didn't know whether to feel horrified or relieved that she finally remembered. And she didn't know whether she should feel the utmost guilt towards Tom or seething anger at her father for trying to blame the murder on her.

She ran out of the inn in the rain. The streets she passed by were dark; ominous figures sometimes lurked in the corners, but she didn't have the energy to fear them as her feet paddled on the hard wet stone of the road. The cemetery was on the other side of the hill at the back of Bree. When she arrived, she spotted a hut with a lit lamp hanging from a metal hook at the door. She peered inside the lighted window and saw an old man bent over the table reading a book. Silently, she unhooked the lamp and took it with her as she walked inside the cemetery.

The rain tapped regularly on her head and face but she barely felt it as she hopped from stone to stone, her lamp swinging in front of her to light the way. The flimsy rays of light sometimes fell on the half forgotten inscriptions on the stones, but she didn't pause to look at them more closely. Reg had told her where to go. She trudged in the mud of the cemetery until she finally reached the last section, separated from the rest by low metal railings.

She stopped in front of the last to second gravestone; if she could read, she would have seen the words "Tom Fallohides" encrypted on the ordinary grey stone. She couldn't help feeling her heart sink at the sight of him being buried at the most desolate area of the cemetery, where the guards rarely bothered to come do the weekly maintenance. Tom didn't have any other family, but he had been nice to her, and she felt horrible for having forgotten about him all this time.

She set the lamp on the dirt, by the gravestone, close enough that the yellow light made the carvings on the stone visible. She sat down in the dirt, cross-legged and hands clasped together, and just stayed there in silence, under the pouring rain.

She had a lot she wanted to say, but none of it seemed appropriate anymore after all this time. She sat in front of his grave until the rain finally stopped and the first rays of sunshine came crawling up the limits of the horizon, tainting the sky a warm red.

She stood up slowly.

"I miss you, Tom," she finally spoke up in a voice that rang clear in the cemetery. "And I'm sorry. Ever since I remembered everything, I couldn't help thinking how horrible my father is for blaming me for killing you. But he was even more horrible to you, I realize that now. And I'm sorry you ended up dead because of me. If you didn't know me, you would still be at the Prancing Pony, alive and happy. But in spite of everything, I'm still selfishly glad we met each other. You were like a real dad to me, and I won't never ever forget you again."

She picked up the lamp, whose light was now useless in the peaking dawn. "Goodbye Tom. I don't know where folk go after they die, but I hope you are in a good place now."

A gust of wind made a few leaves fly off from the ground; they twirled a little at her feet before settling down again. Allie racked a hand through her hair, and after a last glance towards Tom's grave, she walked away.

As she was passing by the limits of the cemetery, a lone gravestone suddenly held her attention for a reason she couldn't decipher. It was a weird and magnetic feeling, like an invisible string pulling her close. She let herself be guided towards it, and felt her heart skip a beat or two when she finally came to stand in front of it. Slowly, her fingers glided into her breast pocket to take out the portrait of her mother.

She didn't know how, but she had the strangest and absurd feeling that this was where her mom was lying.

"Mom…?"

Slowly, she stepped closer, and slowly, with trembling fingers, she caressed the inscription, taking in the way the writings felt underneath her fingertips.

She looked down at the portrait in her hands, from where her mom's smiling and gentle grey eyes gazed back at her. Marroc had loved this hobbit. He had loved her so much that he could even hate his own daughter for taking her life. Allie found that she couldn't even hate her father for everything he had put her through, because of this one thing, this one all-encompassing feeling of guilt and helplessness. If she had any control over her life, maybe she would have chosen not to be born at all. Maybe it would have been better if she had died at childbirth and her mother had lived instead. Then, her father, her mother and Robin would have been happy together and lived normally just like any other family.

Shaking slightly, and feeling absolutely empty, she crumpled the portrait a little in her hands. "Well, what do you think, mother?" she asked the gravestone in a neutral voice. "Would it have been better that way?

_You were meant to live…_

Startled, she turned around vividly as her alarmed eyes quickly scanned the cemetery. But it was deserted. She could have sworn she had just heard… a voice. The wind was blowing in her ears, whistling among the graves. A tingle crawled on the skin of her arms as she continued scanning her surroundings. But she was alone.

Thrusting the portrait back into her pocket hastily, she threw a last uneasy glance at her mother's grave before swiftly running away.

Her heart only settled back into a semblance of serenity once the cemetery was far behind her. As she entered the town again, she finally stopped running and slowed her pace down to a quick walk. She forced herself to stop thinking about her mother, and forced herself to think about Tom instead.

By the time she reached the Prancing Pony and saw Reg running towards her, she had made a decision. It was time to go back to the Shire. Staying hidden here in Bree wouldn't bring her brother back, and it wouldn't bring the past back either. The people at the Shire needed to know about what had really transpired. Her father was the dangerous one, not her, and those hobbits at Buckland had the right to know the truth. Even if it scared her, even if she didn't know whether the folk there would believe her, she had to try her best to persuade them. Not just for her sake, but also for Tom's sake. He deserved that much from her.

Back in the cemetery, miles from where she was walking now, a pair of shiny black eyes appeared a moment from behind a bush growing close to Jessamine's grave, before fading again. A grey form quickly sauntered onto the boulder at the edge of the cemetery, and then disappeared into the lingering shadows that the rising sun hadn't yet been able to reach.

* * *

Another chapter! :D and what, 3 reviews for the last chapter? That must have been a record LOL. Thanks guys! Tell me what y'all thought about this one. Do you like where this story is going? Yes, no, maybe? ;) In any case my exams are all over so I will have more time to write now, yay!

**Peregrine Wanderer:** Yay, I'm so happy to have gained a new reader in you :D Thanks for liking the story, and I will be waiting for that long in depth review! :O haha, no pressure though!

**strawburry:** Thanks! Hope you enjoyed this chappy as well :)

**CrashingUpward**: I know, I feel bad for Frodo too :( I think the death of his parents was a pretty sad event overall in Tolkien's story, and I wish there was like more detail about how it happened.


	15. Broken Friendship

**Broken Friendship**

Berilac was very satisfied of his day. He had managed to turn a normal and unappealing school day into something bearable. How did he accomplish that? Well, for starters, his mother had made his favourite breakfast – two slices of toasted bread with strawberry marmalade, two scrambled eggs and two slices of grilled bacon - which had lifted his spirits considerably. Thw downside of it all was that he was so full that he fell asleep the minute his butt touched the chair at school.

He had already been given detention three times before for sleeping too much in class and salivating on all his papers, but not today. Today, he had been lucky! Merry, who was sitting behind him, tried to act all clever by poking him in the ribs with his pen, which woke him up so suddenly that not only did he jerk up straight, but he also flapped his arms backwards and sent Merry's books and papers flying everywhere.

It had been an accident, but when the teacher – a fat bald hobbit with glasses – turned away from the board, all he saw was Merry's surprised face with his books scattered at his feet. He didn't even want to know what Merry had to say in his defense and straight out gave him detention on BOTH Saturday and Sunday.

Berilac laughed out loud as he walked through the fields. That would teach his cousin to play lame tricks on him! The funny part was that for once, he didn't even do it on purpose. The forces of the Universe must have been on his side.

He was dying to tell the story to someone, but then sobered up when he realized there was no one to tell it to. At least, no one who would "get" him. Folco would roll his eyes at him and call him immature, and Fatty would just keep on eating whatever he would be eating without paying him much attention.

Frodo would have been a good audience, but… it was still kind of depressing to think about Frodo. What had happened to his parents was just the most horrible thing he had ever witnessed in his whole life. And he would know a thing or two about drowning in the Brandywine River, since he had almost drowned in there himself, if not for Allie.

Not for the first time, he wondered where on earth Allie was. Nobody knew where she had gone to. She had just disappeared without a trace on the same day that Frodo's parents had drowned. The adults searched through all the surrounding fields and villages with a fine-toothed comb, but still found no trace of her whatsoever. He mused that she must have run away from home. Especially with all the rumors going on about her killing somebody.

Now all the kids knew about her deed. Someone must have heard from their parents, and then the next day it had been all over Bucklebury. Merry and he tried to defend her for the first couple of days, but then the others kids kept saying that her running away clearly meant she was guilty. Merry and he had found no good excuses for that.

But still, deep down, he believed she was innocent. He just hoped she would stop hiding and come out to say so herself.

"I was right all along about her being just a foolish lass…" he muttered to himself. "Where does she think she can go? And besides, if she wanted to run away, she should have said something to us first. How can she just…"

He stopped suddenly and stared. Rubbed his eyes, stared again.

He couldn't believe it.

There, in front of him, cutting across the field, was Allie! He recognized her blonde shiny hair right away, even though she was still far! It seemed that she hadn't seen him yet. One month without a trace and suddenly she popped up again? His heart started pounding as he crouched down low in the grass and made his way towards her as quietly as he could.

He hid behind a boulder, and when she passed by, he climbed on top of the boulder and then jumped down to land right in front of her, cutting her path.

She startled in alarm before recognizing him. "Berilac? It really is you! You scared me!"

Berilac's brown eyes were glinting with anger and amusement at the same time. "You had that coming! Where have you been all this time?"

He quickly took in her appearance; nothing much seemed to have changed, except for a harshness in her eyes that had not been there before. She looked him down severely.

"I had some business elsewhere."

"What business?" And then: "Well you should have told us you were leaving! Do you know what Merry and I have gone through because of your disappearance?"

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

He quickly filled her in about what all the kids were now saying. "Their stories are becoming more and more out of hand. Some are saying you killed a whole bunch of folk in one night by different means and didn't even break a sweat."

He expected her to laugh and tell him it was indeed ridiculous, but instead she made a bitter face and pushed past him to continue walking towards the village.

"Wait!" Berilac quickly ran after her. He watched her back uncertainly for a minute or two.

"Hey, lass, you haven't done it for real, have you?"

Allie turned on her heels so suddenly that he almost crashed into her. Her grey eyes appraised him calmly, forcing him to look down.

"No," she simply said.

Berilac heaved a sigh of relief. "Well, I knew it! Killing somebody takes some serious guts! A girl would never be able to kill anybody!"

Allie already wasn't listening anymore to Berilac's babbling. It seemed that her father had done nothing to dispel the false accusations in the time that she had been gone. No, in fact, he had made them even worse! She had thought about how to handle this for a long time on her way back to Buckland, and had come to the conclusion that there was only one person who could help her.

On the main road to Bucklebury village, a few kids were playing. When they saw her, they frowned for a moment before recognition set in.

"It's her!"

"It's the murderer!"

"She's back!"

"Let's run!"

Allie watched them take off quickly. Berilac caught up with her and saw her troubled expression. "Better get used to it. I think it's only going to get worse," he told her uneasily.

And he was right. The moment she set foot into the village, she saw both adults and children stopping what they were doing to gape at her and to whisper madly among themselves as they pointed at her with their fingers. They didn't even try to conceal their expressions of fear and animosity as she passed them by. Allie sank her head low between her shoulder blades and started running to get away from them all.

Berilac ran alongside her for awhile, until he realized she wasn't going in direction of her smial. At the foot of Buck Hill, he finally yanked her to a halt.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"I need to speak to Frodo."

She frowned at the passing look of alarm that crossed his eyes.

"Oh… right… you still don't know," he mumbled, not looking at her.

"Know what?"

Berilac sighed and kicked a pebble away moodily. "Why do I have to be the one to break the news?"

"What's wrong?" Allie gripped his arm so hard that he looked up in surprise.

He had no choice but to speak. "Well… the thing is... Frodo's parents had an accident while they were on their boat. They uh… they died. They drowned in the River."

Allie's hand flew to her mouth. "What?" she managed to croak out after a few seconds.

Berilac eyed her quickly. "I know. We were all extremely shocked that such a thing could happen to such nice hobbits. And then you disappeared on that day as well, so everything was a mess. Only recently have we managed to get things back to normal after conducting the funeral two weeks ago."

Allie felt her knees buckling. An image of Frodo's parents huddled close together inside that white boat crossed her mind. Could it be that it had happened then?

She started running up Buck Hill, but Berilac caught up with her again. "Wait, I'm not done!"

She turned back wildly. "I need to speak to Frodo even more now! I think I… on the day that… oh just never mind and let me go."

But Berilac didn't let her go. "Listen to me! Frodo is not here anymore!"

She froze. What did he mean?

Since she was just gaping at him in shock, he quickly continued: "He doesn't live here anymore. After his parents died, he lived for awhile with Merry, but then one of his uncles came and took him away."

Allie tried to process all this, but was quickly feeling overwhelmed. "So, where is he now?"

"Someplace called Hobbiton."

"Is it far from here?"

Berilac pondered. "I think… it would take the same time it took us to go see Pippin."

Allie bit her lower lip discouragingly. That was pretty far. Her mind was still reeling from all the information. She couldn't believe that Frodo's parents were dead. And his mother had been so nice to her too. She remembered her gentle blue eyes and suddenly felt a deep ache. But instead of giving in to it, she forced herself to think about more pressing matters. She had planned to tell Frodo's parents everything so that they could help her out, since Frodo had said that his parents didn't believe in the rumors; but now, that path was a dead-end.

What to do now?

"Berilac!"

They both looked up to see Berilac's father trudging down the hill towards them. He saw who his son was standing next to and paled a little. "Berilac, come here! What are you doing?"

"Dad! She said she didn't do it!" Berilac yelled back defiantly.

"Berilac! Come back here right now or I'll get angry!" Merimac shouted, already sounding angry.

Berilac addressed Allie an uncertain look, but the girl just nodded at him to go. "Just go. I'll be fine."

To make it easier for him, she swiftly ran away in the opposite direction and disappeared among a patch of trees.

* * *

Merry was chewing on his pen moodily as he pondered on his English homework under the shade of a tree, when a small pebble came flying over his head to land on his lap. Raising his head, he looked around warily, wonderingwhether Berilac was playing another trick on him. He still couldn't believe he got detention for something he didn't even do!

But as his eyes landed on the patch of trees to his left, he saw Allie, of all people, waving at him from behind the trunk of the thickest tree. Feeling his jaw drop open a little at seeing her again for the first time in a month, he quickly stood up, mindless of his papers and pen falling to the ground as he did so. He ran to join her.

"Allie? What… where…" he didn't even know where to start.

Allie, however, cut him off quite impatiently. "Merry! You said your father was an important person, right?"

Merry blinked confusedly. "Right. He's the Master of Buckland."

"So, if he says something, all the other folk will believe him, right?"

"Yes, of course!"

Allie licked her lips nervously. "All right, Merry. I'm sure you're aware of what people here are saying about me," she spoke quickly, "all this happened because my father keeps saying that I killed someone. Before, I didn't at all remember whether I really did it or not, so I couldn't contradict him. But then, I went to back to Bree where it supposedly happened and… now I remember it all Merry! It wasn't me! It was my father! He was the one who stabbed another hobbit at the Prancing Pony. The hobbit in question got stabbed because he was trying to protect me. Anyway, it's a long story but I didn't kill anybody. I'm sure of it now. I…"

Merry put a hand on her arm. "Allie, slow down."

Allie forced herself to stop. Merry's brown eyes surveyed her anxious face for a few seconds. "So, basically, you didn't do it. I always thought you could not have done it either. I know you better than the other kids! I mean, even an adult killing another person is a big deal. So a kid? That's just not right."

Allie nodded eagerly. "Well, what does your father think? Does he believe what my father has been saying?"

"I think all the adults do, to a certain degree. But you should try to explain your side of the story to my father! I'm sure he'd believe you!"

She felt euphoric at his confirmation, and hopeful again. "You really think so?"

"Yes! And I'm on your side too! He will be forced to believe the both of us!"

"Can I talk to him now? Is he home?"

Merry hesitated for a moment at this, but finally nodded and motioned at her to follow him. They ran across the lawn until they finally reached Brandy Hall. Allie followed Merry inside when he pushed the two great doors open. A few maids who were walking down the halls nodded in Merry's direction and Merry nodded back briefly before pulling Allie along.

They stopped in front of a round black door and Merry knocked twice on the wood. The chatting inside the room stopped, and then Saradoc's strong voice said: "Come in."

Merry pushed the door open and entered the well-lit studio, with Allie following closely behind, apprehension in her every step. Saradoc beamed at his son, but his smile faded a little when he set eyes on the lass.

"Well, well! Is that who I think it is?"

"Father! Allie has something she needs to tell you. You have to hear her out!"

Saradoc appraised Allie for a few more seconds, before standing up from behind his desk and motioning to the couches beside it. "All right then. Please sit."

The hobbit who was chatting with Saradoc previously was the butler, and Saradoc whispered something in his ear before dismissing him.

Allie went to sit on the couches beside Merry, and a moment later Saradoc came to sit in front of them both. Lacing his fingers together, he started:

"Allie is your name, isn't it? I have heard quite a lot about you, young lady. Where have you been for the past month? Does your father know that you are back?"

Allie peered up into his brown eyes tentatively, but they seemed warm enough. Slowly, she shook her head.

"You should tell him. He will be so glad that you are safe and sound! That poor fellow couldn't sleep nor eat after you disappeared. He thought the same thing that happened to your brother had happened to you as well. And… yes?"

He cut himself off after seeing Allie twitch uncomfortably on her seat, as though she was dying to speak.

"Sir!" she finally started, "it wasn't my intention to make everyone so worried, but today I came to you because I want to talk about… well about what people have been saying that I did."

Saradoc sighed and his expression turned serious. "Have you come to confess the crime to me?"

"Confess... the crime? No! I came today to tell you that I'm innocent! I… I will tell you everything. So please listen to me till the end!"

Saradoc appraised her for a long time before giving her a brief nod. Encouraged, Allie started from the beginning and told him everything concerning her relationship with Tom, and what had happened at the inn on that rainy night, and how she had lost her memory of it after it had happened. She left out the part about her mother, however.

Saradoc listened to her carefully, and when she finished and gazed at him expectantly, he remained silent.

"I can't believe your father! How can he do this?" Merry exclaimed, in shock.

Merry's father sat back on the couch and just passed a weary hand over his face. Finally, he set eyes on her once more. "Young lass, are you saying that your father was the one who committed the crime, and yet he tried to blame it on his own daughter?"

"Yes," she answered seriously. "I know how unbelievable it sounds, but please, you must believe me. It's the truth."

"Do you have any proof that what you are saying is the truth?"

She closed her eyes for an instant for she had been dreading this moment. "No, I don't," she admitted, "but neither does my father."

"Well, I don't know about any of the rest, but your father has been right on one thing."

She looked at him.

"He warned me you might come to me or to someone else and tell us an incredible story. He said you were quite the storyteller and had a vivid imagination. And well… here you are, and you have just told me the most incredible story I've heard in my life."

Suddenly, she had a bad feeling about coming here. This hobbit didn't believe a word she had just said. Shaking a little, she stood up from the couch. Merry was looking from her to his father, a dumbfounded expression on his face.

Saradoc unlaced his fingers and then laced them back together again. "You look like a good girl to me, so I'm going to be quite honest here, if you don't mind me doing so. I do believe you didn't do it on purpose. But sometimes… we lose control over ourselves and our emotions for one reason or another. You are still young, so as long as we teach you how to control yourself better, nothing of the sort will happen ever again, and you will not need to make up stories to cover up your actions anymore. You could live a normal life if you wished to, Allie."

She shook her head furiously. "You don't understand. I didn't make this story up! I'm telling you it wasn't me!"

He stood up as well when he saw her backing away from the couch, and reached out a comforting hand to her. "Come on, child. You told me yourself you didn't remember a thing about the act. So perhaps now you have just made up a new memory, a memory of what you _think_ happened."

Allie was now throwing desperate glances towards the door from over her shoulder. Coming here was a mistake. She crossed Merry's stunned eyes over the couch, and hoped he understood her silent plea for help. However, Merry was looking extremely confused right now, like he didn't know what to believe anymore.

Suddenly, the door behind her opened, and in walked the last person she wanted to see.

"Allie! There you are!" Marroc beamed and opened up his arms as though to hug her. She shied away as fast as she could, her heart pounding in her ears as panic rose in her chest.

Saradoc exchanged a glance with his butler and nodded.

"Stay away!" she shrieked as Marroc approached her again.

"Calm down, Allie," Saradoc pleaded. "Your father doesn't want to do you any harm. We are all here to help you."

"Help me? You don't even believe me!" She pointed frantically at her father. "He's the murderer! Not me!"

Marroc's smile wavered for a second before settling back in place again. "Come on, Allie. You are too old now to still believe in those made-up stories of yours. Murder is not something to joke about."

He tried seizing her wrist after cornering her against the desk. Allie bent down and glided from underneath his arms, before bolting towards the door left ajar.

"Catch her!" she heard Marroc's voice bellow.

The butler stepped in her way but she lowered her head and charged into his stomach, knocking the air out of him. His limp hands tried to hold onto her clothes, but she shook them off and ran through the door.

She was now out in the hallways and tried to remember which way was the exit. Without wasting time, she sprinted down the tunnels breathlessly, aware of the curious glances from the maids. However, none of them tried to intercept her. Finally, she spotted the main doors and pushed them open to emerge into the open air. She ran as fast as she could across the lawn, her blonde hair flying behind her wildly at each stride. A few minutes later, she finally reached the cover of the trees.

She could trust no one now. No one.

Back inside the house, Saradoc twisted his hands worriedly. "Shall I send some hobbits after her?"

Marroc, with his back to him, licked his lips savagely as his eyes glinted with barely suppressed fury. "No need. You have my word that she will not do anything. She will come home eventually and then we will talk. You don't need to chase her down."

"Dad…" Merry started in a small voice, but Saradoc ignored him.

"But Marroc, she will not harm any of the other folk in town, will she? Like you told us, we don't know when she might be in that dangerous mindset again."

Marroc finally turned to face the other hobbit. "I will recognize the signs. Right now she is just confused. Let me find her and deal with her instead. It's best if other people don't interfere."

The two hobbits eyed each other for a moment, before Saradoc finally gave in with a brief nod of assent.

"As long as you take responsibility, you shall do as you please."

That night, Allie didn't go back home. And neither did she the night after. She was lucky the weather was still relatively warm and she could sleep huddled underneath the green falling creepers of a plant in the woods.

She needed to think. This was a hundred times worse than she had anticipated. There was no one on her side, and there was no one who believed her now. If she went back, they were probably going to lock her up somewhere to "instruct" her on how to control her supposedly murderous impulses.

She couldn't stay here any longer. She had to get away. Maybe she should go back to Bree and work at the Prancing Pony like she had been doing for the past month. None of the Shire-folk would dare to follow her there. Besides, Reg and Lena would be there, and they believed in her innocence. They had known her father for as long as she had known him, and they had seen his bad side plenty of times. Everyone in Bree knew what kind of person Marroc was. She needed to leave this place and go there instead, where she would be safe.

But should she? Tom's real murderer was still out there, unpunished. She had sworn to bring the real murderer to justice, and yet now she was thinking of running away.

She hid her face in her hands. What could she do though? She was powerless and helpless. If only her brother was here…

If only Frodo was here.

Her hands slid down to her lap as her eyes widened. Realization dawned on her that Frodo was not gone forever like Robin. He was somewhere, that somewhere being Hobbiton.

Now that she thought about it, the name seemed rather familiar. Where had she heard it before? Hobbiton… Hobbiton…

_Heyya ma'am, mail from Hobbiton! _

She hit a fist against her palm. Right! There was a postman who always delivered mail from Hobbiton to the old lady who lived next door. She had noticed it back when she was observing every single activity from her window. The postman from Hobbiton always came twice a month, once on the Friday of the second week, and once at the end of the month.

She counted quickly on her fingers. The end of the month was in two days.

She had a new plan now.

Two days later found Allie crouched low behind the flowers of the old lady's garden. The old lady had so many flowers blooming that they filled every centimeter of the front lawn, so it was easy to hide in their midst. A bee kept circling around her golden hair, buzzing insistently, but she ignored it, her eyes trained on the road.

As the sun rose slowly in the sky, she suddenly saw a lone figure walking down the road from the marketplace. He was wearing a brown saddle bag that bounced against his hip at every step. On his head was a faded green hat that hid his eyes a little. Whistling a song joyously, he stopped in front of the mailbox and dropped a single beige envelope inside.

When he left, Allie quickly stood up from amidst the flowers and started trailing him from the shadows.

She followed him all morning as he went from smial to smial to drop off the letters. She was lucky it was still early morning and few hobbits were awake, or else she would have had a terrible time hiding from them all.

The postman stopped at the Bridge Inn for an early breakfast and some coffee, and Allie waited for him outside, shuffling nervously on her feet and spying on him from outside the Inn's windows.

An hour later, he was out. He stretched widely just outside the front door and gave a jovial salute to the now raised sun, before setting out again.

Allie started trailing him from the fields as he walked on the road leading to the North. The postman walked at a swift pace and didn't stop at all until noon. Allie's feet were killing her already and her stomach was rumbling of hunger, but still, she never lost her focus on the postman's plaid shirt.

After a quick meal by the side of the road, he resumed his walk again. Allie followed him like his shadow.

Evening was now falling and he had started to sing a song. Allie was so tired of trudging through undergrowth that she had now resorted to walking on the road a few meters behind him, too exhausted and hungry to care about being found out, and just hoping that the evening shadows would be enough to hide her.

The postman stretched as he walked, and without interrupting his song, he suddenly sang: "Who are you and why have you been following me all day long?"

He twirled graciously on the balls of his feet and ended up face to face with Allie in the light of dusk. She thought of bolting, but then gave up and instead looked back at him defiantly. "I need to go to Hobbiton. I know you are going there, so just let me follow you."

He broke out into a broad and toothy smile. "A follower! That's nice, I've never had one of those before! So what is your name, follower?"

"Allie," she mumbled, caught a little off guard at his behaviour.

The postman clapped three times delightfully. "Allie Follower! Nice to meet you. You may call me Postman."

"Don't you have a name too?"

"Oh my, I sure do! I almost forgot since no one uses it much anymore. I'm always on the road, you see? Westfarthing this week, Northfarthing the next week, and so on. So many places to go. So much mail to deliver."

She felt slightly amused now. "So… your name?"

"Oh yes! My name! it is Bungo Boggy-Hillocks."

She puffed a little. That was the most ridiculous name she'd ever heard. No wonder he preferred "Postman".

He took off his hat and bowed a little. "At your service."

"Well, Bungo, I need to go to Hobbiton."

He put his hat back on and nodded. "Hobbiton, Hobbiton, that is a nice place to go to."

He resumed his walking, and Allie hurried to catch up to him. "Is it?" she wondered, "how is it over there?"

"It's got hills, it's got watermills, it's got a lake. Oh yes! And it's got the Party Tree."

That sounded like a nice place indeed.

"Why do you want to go there?" Bungo asked jovially.

"To find a friend."

Bungo passed an arm around her shoulders and pressed her close. She was so surprised she almost tripped and fell. "Ahhh, that is a beautiful reason to go somewhere. Come on, Allie Follower, let's walk some more till the sun sets. You've been doing your job as a Follower all day, so you must be hungry. Here, an apple to reward you!"

She caught the fruit in her hands and felt her spirits lift a little. Nothing had gone well ever since she had come back, but things would turn around once she reached Hobbiton and found Frodo. She didn't even know why she was so certain that Frodo would find a solution to everything. Perhaps it was because of his promise that he'd take care of her.

"I never break my promises", she remembered him saying.

She grinned. She couldn't wait to see him again.

Before going to Hobbiton however, Allie was bummed to hear that Bungo had letters to deliver to Crickhollow and Newbury first. She followed him there against her will. She didn't want to go to the place where Robin had disappeared, for it reminded her too vividly of his absence. Happily for her, Bungo was sympathetic and agreed to hasten the pace to get all the deliveries done with as fast as he could.

Within the week, Bungo finished visiting every smials, and presently the two of them were finally walking along the Great East Road towards Hobbiton.

Bungo never managed to stay quiet for long. He was either saying his thoughts out loud or singing them out loud. Allie just walked silently beside him most of the time, quiet and pensive.

Finally, after three days of walking, they were there. Allie marvelled at the quite unusual scenery unfolding in front of her eyes. Many rivers coursed through the land, and there was a huge extent of water she could see shining further down the hill.

Bungo saw her gaping. "That's the Bywater Pool. Isn't it pretty?"

The waters were so clear that its surface served as a mirror that reflected the trees and houses into a mesmerizing inverted panorama inside the waters. As they engaged onto a small sinuous road winding around the side of hills, they crossed over several little stone bridges arching over the streams. On her left, the wheel of a huge watermill turned slowly as the waters cascaded down the ladders of the wheel in loud crystalline jets.

"Allie Follower!" Bungo's vibrating voice pulled her out of her daze. "I have business to tend to here so I have to go now. I hope you find your friend!"

Allie smiled up broadly at him. "Thank you so much for everything, Bungo. I will see you at Buckland then."

Bungo took off his hat and bowed again, bending his knees. "Always at your service."

She smiled as she waved goodbye, watching as he hopped away over a bridge.

Then, she slowly lowered her hand and took a quick look around; for the first time, she realized she was all alone in a town she didn't know. And she had absolutely no idea where Frodo could be!

She walked along the lake until she saw a bigger road that seemed to extend into the heart of town. She followed it, and soon enough, she was at the marketplace. There were way more animals here than in Buckland, and most of them were just roaming freely without seemingly anyone paying any attention to them. After avoiding a goat, she found herself in front of a stand of watermelons. Seeing them reminded her suddenly of the summer days spent stealing from farmer Maggot. It seemed like such a long time ago now. She missed those days, and she missed her friends. Would those days ever come back? She doubted that things would ever be the same again with Merry after what had happened with his father. She knew Merry had no ill intention towards her, but if he was going to be on his father's side, he couldn't be on hers.

"Can I get you something, dear?" the lady behind the stand asked. A white cat was curled up in her arms and she was striking his fur with one hand.

"Do you know of a Frodo Baggins?"

The lady patted the cat's head. "Baggins… Baggins… the only Baggins I know of is Bilbo Baggins. He lives over that hill," she said and pointed over her shoulder.

Bilbo? She didn't know any Bilbo. But at least the last name was the same. "Thank you!"

"He's a funny one though." The lady was now leaning forward curiously. "What business do you have with him, may I ask?"

"Nothing much," Allie answered and then quickly excused herself.

After reaching the hill in question, she found herself in a very quiet and orderly area. All the gardens there were well maintained, and there was a white wooden fence around each of them. Several hobbits were sitting on the stairs outside their front door, smoking their pipe. Their eyes followed her as she quickly passed them by.

She looked everywhere but didn't see any sign Frodo nor of any other kid her age, for that matter. Soon, she ended up reaching the end of the road. Sighing, she leaned against the fence of the last house in order to rest for a while. To her surprise, the fence suddenly glided inwards, almost making her fall. She quickly regained her balance and saw that she had leaned on a gate built inside the fence. There was also a panel beside it with something written on it, but she had no idea how to read that.

"What are you doing here?" a reproachful voice rose behind her.

Startled, she twirled and came face to face with a slightly chubby blonde hobbit. It was the first kid she had seen today, which put her more at ease immediately.

"Are you trying to break into Bag-End?" the lad asked again suspiciously.

She had no idea what Bag-End was. "I'm looking for Frodo Baggins?"

The other boy's eyes narrowed. "Fr... I mean, Mr. Frodo? What business do you have with him?"

She decided to ignore the "mister" part, and rather delighted in the fact that this boy knew Frodo!

"You know him? Where is he?"

The boy hesitated. "The old Gaffer told me not to speak to strangers."

Just at that moment, an old hobbit strode out onto the road from the garden two houses down. "Samwise? What's taking you so long?"

The boy – Samwise – looked back. "Coming!" He threw another suspicious glance at her before sprinting away.

Allie watched him go with a frown. Well, at least she knew that Frodo was indeed here. Perhaps she should wait right here to see whether Frodo would come visit that Samwise person during the day.

She sat outside the fence and rubbed her thumbs into her sore muscles. She had never walked so much in her life as she did the past week. Plus, she felt so hungry that she could eat a cow.

As the hours ticked past and nothing much changed in the neighbourhood, she started feeling drowsy. After her head almost hit her shoulder for the third time, she violently shook her head and then tapped her cheeks with both hands while making "ahh" sounds with her mouth to keep herself awake.

She then stood up to stretch her legs.

That's when she saw him.

He was slowly walking down the road towards her, his black school bag under one arm. He hadn't seen her yet because he was keeping his eyes on the ground. Allie felt a huge smile stretch on her face from ear to ear. She was so excited she didn't even think of catching him by surprise with one of her usual tricks. Instead, she just screamed: "Frodo!" as loud as she could.

It was so loud it even startled a dog nearby, causing it to start barking in displeasure. Frodo was startled as well by the loudness of it and snapped his head up. When his eyes bore into her frame standing beside his new house, there was an expression of utmost disbelief on his face. He stopped walking and craned his neck forwards a little, squinting to make sure he wasn't just seeing things.

"Allie?"

She was now sprinting towards him as fast as she could. Frodo braced himself for a second, for it looked like she was going to knock him to the ground at the speed she was coming towards him. If his eyes were not wrong and this was indeed Allie, he wouldn't be surprised at all that this was what she intended to do.

Before he could move, however, Allie braked to a stop in front of him, her messy hair falling a little in her eyes.

"Frodo!" she screamed again, in his face.

And now he really had no doubt that it was her.

"What are you…"

He stopped abruptly when she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. For some reason, he felt his breath being knocked out of his chest as though she really had collided with him at maximal speed. The schoolbag fell from under his arm and landed on the road beside his feet.

He eyed the mass of blonde curls under his chin and felt his cheeks heating up at an alarming rate. He was still unable to draw in a proper breath. He didn't know what surprised him the most; that she was _hugging_ him right now or that she was actually _here_, in Hobbiton.

His hands hesitantly rose to reciprocate the gesture, but before he could complete it, she was already pulling away, still all smiles and shiny eyes. "I found you all right!" she exclaimed ecstatically.

Still smiling, she stared into his bewildered blue eyes. He blinked and looked away for a second.

"What are you…" He stopped and cleared his throat. "Um, what are you doing here?"

At this, she suddenly took a step back and eyed him carefully. Frodo felt a little uneasy at being scrutinized in such fashion from up close, but he couldn't help staring at her as well. She didn't seem to have changed much… or did she? There was something new in her grey eyes that he couldn't put his finger on.

Allie, on her end, was making the same observation. Something had changed on Frodo's face, but she didn't know what.

"You look different," they said to each other at the same time, and then looked at each other, surprised.

She recovered first. "And yet you are still the same." She sighed dramatically. "Who do you think I came all the way here for, silly?"

She shook her head at Frodo's stunned expression. "I came here to see you, of course!"

"You came all the way from Buckland?" Frodo wondered, his eyes round.

Allie sighed. Perhaps he looked different because he was slower to get things than before.

Frodo blinked twice, wondering whether he was dreaming. She seemed real enough though. He felt as though it had been ages since he last bid her good night on the side of the road. When she had disappeared, he thought she had gone into the Old Forest to look for Robin again. At this, he finally regained his spirits.

"Allie, I think you owe me a story."

Allie saw the seriousness in his eyes and felt herself becoming serious as well. She had come here for a reason after all.

Frodo pointed behind her. "Do you want to come in?"

She gaped at the smial behind the fence she had been leaning against. It was the biggest of the neighbourhood. "This is where you live now?" she marvelled out loud.

Frodo shrugged, and a shadow crossed his eyes for a moment. "It's my Uncle's house."

They climbed up the few steps of the stairs and Frodo opened the round door. The hallways inside were cool and somber, and she followed him till they reached a small salon with two couches facing the fireplace.

He went to sit, but Allie lingered in the tunnel leading to the kitchen.

"Frodo, say, you don't happen to have some food in here? I'm starving!"

Frodo arched an eyebrow mockingly, but said nothing as he went to rummage through the kitchen closets. "Your stomach comes first, as always."

She pouted at his back. "I survived for a week on just apples."

Frodo unwrapped a loaf of bread. "This should be enough, right? How big of a slice do you want?"

Allie snatched the whole loaf out of his hands wordlessly and went to sit with it on the couch in front of the fireplace. She immediately pulled off a huge piece with her fingers and started devouring it eagerly. Frodo shook his head at her and followed her there.

While eating, she started to tell him everything that had happened since the day she had found out from Berilac that her father was telling the entire town she had murdered someone. Frodo was nodding as he listened intently. As she recounted everything that she had subsequently found out in Bree, his frown deepened.

"If the Master of Buckland is on my father's side too, I really don't know what else I should do," she finished, dusting the bread crumbs off her lap.

"He must not be in his right mind," Frodo whispered, alluding to Marroc. "Or there must be something he thinks he's gaining by doing all this."

"After coming to Buckland, he must have been scared that I was going to tell on him to the people of town if I ever regained my memory. He thinks I've been telling folk about the beating, but except to you, I really haven't said a word to any of the adults. I don't know what happened to make him believe that. He just told me folk have been asking him questions about me, and that had frightened him."

"He's turned the whole town against you to protect himself?" Frodo was visibly disgusted.

"I think so."

"What kind of father does that?" he exclaimed, upset, as he stood up and started pacing.

She was a little surprised that he was getting this angry on her behalf, but it also made her happy. "I've stopped thinking of him as my father long ago. Tom was more of a father to me than he ever was. That's why even if I did kill someone, it would never be Tom," she finished scathingly.

"Don't say that!" Frodo exclaimed angrily. "You are not a killer! You would never be one!"

She met his eyes and sustained his gaze steadily until Frodo finally stopped pacing and went to stand in front of her. "You are not a killer, Allie."

She swallowed and looked down. "I know. I was just saying."

He sighed and sat down. "So, what now?"

She shook her head. "I don't know."

Frodo sighed. "You came all this way to tell me but…"

"No one back there would even believe that I didn't do it. Not even Merry, I think. But I just hoped at least you… you would believe me."

"I do," Frodo answered. "But that's not going to solve the problem."

They both fell into a thoughtful silence.

"I just need proof that I'm not telling a lie," she finally said.

"Maybe you need to find a witness."

Her eyes brightened a little at that but then dimmed again. "I don't think anybody saw."

"Why did your father leave Bree then? Someone must have seen him do it and threatened him with it."

"He left because he was scared people were getting ideas, but I think he was just paranoid. I remember the scene clearly now. Besides me, Reg and Lena, nobody else was there, and only I saw him holding the knife. And Tom, of course. But he's dead."

Frodo tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the side of the couch. "The only other way is to make him confess to the crime while someone else is listening."

She frowned. "That might be hard to do. He's not even honest with me, when it's just the two of us."

"Maybe you should try again."

She had to admit that it was a good plan, but it would be extremely complicated to set up. Besides, which adult could she lure into listening in? None of them trusted her. She couldn't do this alone.

She took a deep breath and looked at Frodo straight on.

"Can you come back to Buckland with me?"

Frodo just stared at her, wondering whether she was joking.

"I can't do this alone," she admitted seriously. "None of the adults trust me. They wouldn't follow me anywhere. But if it's you, they just might listen to you. And then your plan could work."

Frodo stood up when he saw she was serious. "Wait just a second, Allie! I can't do that!"

She left her couch and went to his side. "Why not? Come on, if it's the two of us, I'm sure it could work out somehow!"

Frodo looked at her straight in the eye. "Be reasonable. I can't just leave with you!"

He sighed a little when he saw her making pleading eyes at him. He knew how serious she was about this, but she didn't make any sense. How did she expect him to just leave? To go back to that place? He stood up and walked to the fireplace, all the while feeling her eyes on his back.

"Why not?" she asked again. "You came up with this plan, didn't you? This is my last chance, and this is very important to me. I hate to be asking so much of you, but I can't do this by myself. If you do this for me, I swear that in the future I will do whatever you ask me to."

He wet his lips. This was not the problem. He knew she was right, and he could probably go and help her out, but…

"What is my Uncle going to think?" He turned around. "I'm not like you, Allie. I can't just leave on a whim."

She felt anger ignite at these words. "How can you say that to me?" she exclaimed. "I didn't leave on a whim because I wanted to!"

Frodo felt angry flare up as well. "Perhaps not, but I gave you some advice, and that's all I can do for you! This is your problem, you need to solve it by yourself! Going back there is impossible for me."

She felt panic at his words. What he going to abandon her too? "Can you please just consider it? And why exactly can't you go back?"

Frodo started pacing again, feeling his chest constrict. "I can't, because I can't. And my decision will not change even if I consider it. You can't make me do it. Did you come all the way here to order me around?"

"No!" She yelled again, frustrated.

She seized him by the arm. "Didn't you… didn't you promise you'd take care of me? Please, don't do this to me."

Frodo froze for a second at this, but then said: "Things have changed."

There was a silence, and then: "Oh, I see how it is."

She let go of him and stepped back, furious and on the verge of tears. "You are worried that your Uncle will kick you out if you misbehave, right? Now that you live with a rich Uncle in a perfect little town, you must hate me for coming here and ruining your perfect little life with my problems. Fine, I made a mistake! I can't believe I was foolish enough to come here because I believed in your stupid promise!"

She marched towards the door and threw it open. A second later Frodo hand was on her arm as he yanked her back. She was caught off guard at the fury blazing in his eyes.

"How can you say that I have a perfect life here? Don't you know? My parents are dead!" he screamed into her stricken face. "Do you really want me to say it? Fine, I will say it then. I can't go back to the place where they died! All right?"

Suddenly there were tears in his eyes too and he looked away abruptly. "You are not the only one who's got problems!"

That had the effect of a cold shower. Because of everything that had happened to her, she had forgotten about his parents. She felt like she could die.

"Frodo… look…I'm…"

He shook her off angrily, upset at the stunned and guilty look in her eyes, and upset at himself for saying such mean things, and for not being able to hold back his tears. He didn't want her to see him cry. "You should go now."

"Frodo…"

She looked up in time to see him closing the door on her. She banged on it. "Frodo! I didn't mean that! I'm really sorry!"

But the door remained closed. Slowly, she glided down against it as tears rolled down her cheeks. She really had messed up.

On the other side of the door, Frodo sat with his back to the wood and tried to muffle his sobs in his sleeves.

"I'm sorry," he heard her whisper against the wood. "I know about your parents. And I do know how it feels to lose your family. I was just too focused on the thing with my father... and Tom... and... you probably hate me right now, so I will wait until you don't hate me anymore and want to talk to me again. I will wait."

But her saying that just made him want to cry more. He hadn't meant to get angry and to make her feel sorry, and he wanted to tell her he didn't want to break his promise to her, but he just couldn't deal with all this right now.

She eyed the silent door and windows and dried her tears bitterly. She hadn't meant for them to fight like this. She walked down the stairs, across the garden, and went to sit outside on the road with her back to the fence. She felt stupid for coming to see Frodo now. What could he do indeed? And besides, after just losing his parents, she should have known that he wouldn't have wanted to deal with more problems.

She stared at the sky unblinkingly. Why did she even come here?

Time passed, and the sun started setting. She startled a little when a middle-aged hobbit threw her a curious glance before entering the house. She stood up a little, but saw no trace of Frodo.

She sat down to wait again. She waited all night, but Frodo never came out.

"So you still hate me. I don't blame you. I hate myself too," she whispered into the still air of dawn.

* * *

The next morning, Frodo jerked awake when he realized he was sleeping in. The minute he opened his eyes, the scenes from the day before unfolded in his mind, causing him to grimace. He rubbed at his eyes with his fists and scowled when he looked into the mirror and saw that they were still red. He gazed outside the window and frowned at how high the sun already was in the sky. Last evening, after he had sorted out his feelings somewhat, he had meant to go out and talk to Allie again. However, his Uncle had come back and had delayed his plans. He had meant to wait till his Uncle fell asleep, but he had fallen asleep first.

Allie had probably spent the night in the woods and would come back again today to knock on his door. He combed his hair impatiently with his fingers. He couldn't believe that he hadn't been able to stop the waterworks the day before. And he felt bad for yelling at her and telling her he didn't care. None of that was true and he intended to keep his promise of being there for her. To tell the truth, he was actually glad that she hadn't initially mentioned his parents, because what everybody else did day in and day out was to ask him how he was coping with his loss. He was happy he had something else to focus on for a change. He really shouldn't have closed the door on her like that.

Going back with her to Buckland was hard, however. Perhaps they should discuss another plan of action instead.

He entered the kitchen and sat down moodily, peering out the window a little. His uncle Bilbo smiled when he saw his nephew coming. "Good morning, my boy. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, Uncle."

Bilbo poured him a glass of juice and noticed him peering outside the window.

"There was a curious lass who spent all night outside our house," he started. "Is she an acquaintance of yours?"

Frodo twitched uncomfortably. "She spent the whole night out there?"

"Oh, yes. I tried talking to her once when it was getting late, but she ran away. A few minutes later, she was back again. Curious indeed."

Frodo played with his glass and then picked it up. "Is she still outside?"

Bilbo blinked. "Oh, I don't think so. I woke up early this morning and saw her leaving just a little after sunrise."

Frodo slammed the glass down, mindless of the juice spilling out. "What?"

Before a stunned Bilbo had time to reply, Frodo was running towards the front door. He threw it open, rushed down the few steps of the stairs and threw open the wooden gate. He peered on both sides of the fence but there was no one there. He squinted at the road, but that was deserted as well. He started running down the road, still in his pajamas, until he reached the bifurcation that led into the marketplace.

"Allie!" he yelled with all the strength that his lungs could muster.

But the only sound that answered him was the startled flap of wings of a flock of birds perched up on a nearby tree. Frodo's heart was pounding hard in the silence that ensued. He never thought for an instant that she would leave.

Much, much later, when Frodo reflected back on the past, closing the door on her and letting her leave so completely alone that day would always be his biggest regret.

* * *

YES, I love you guys for commenting on my story! Thank you so much! You guys are the reason why I'm writing! Well, I write for myself as well, but reading your comments is always the best part of it all. Don't hesitate to comment on the stuff you like or don't like! I'm always open to hearing your thoughts! Like do you want more romance, more action, what? Although if you are patient all that is coming up soon :D

Hmmm, part one of this story is almost over. I think this will be a story of three parts. Yup.

**strawburry:** Great! Hearing you say that really lifted my spirits! :D

**FreakyFantasy:** omg, glad to hear from you again :) It's awesome that you are still reading this. I LOVE it when you comment, so don't hesitate to do it every time haha. And yeah, making you feel what the characters are feeling is my goal, so I'm really happy you said that. I know, Robin's gone missing (maybe dead) and now poor Allie is alone. How will she deal with evil daddy? That's in the next chapter =P

**Nubcakes:** awesome! And I will! =D Thanks for reading! Always happy to have new readers coming on board.

**CrashingUpward:** Thanks for reviewing again =) You're turning into a loyal reviewer lol, thanks! 3 Yeah, Marroc is just one of those people society could do without, I suppose. Tough luck for you if he's your parent. Hope you enjoyed this one!


	16. Monster

**Monster**

Allie stared at the front door of her smial from her hiding spot across the grass field. She clenched and unclenched her hands a few times before swiftly darting out of cover and making a beeline for the front door. She threw it open and quickly closed it behind her.

Her gaze swept through the dark room, sighing in relief upon finding the place deserted. The temperature inside wasn't very warm, but it was warmer than the cold November wind blowing outside. She hated the weather. She hated this place and every single person living here.

She thought she had friends here, but they had all turned their backs on her. And the single person she had come to trust now most probably hated her and wanted nothing to do with her anymore.

"Why did you forget about his parents?" she mumbled to herself. "Why are you such a foolish girl?"

She closed her eyes and tried to get rid of the unwelcome thoughts. What was done was done. When she opened them again, her mind was blank and she busied herself packing her remaining clothes along with some food inside a travel bag.

She had made her decision to leave for Bree for good. She wasn't able to take revenge for Tom in this powerless state, but she would not give up on it. One day, the opportunity would rise, and then she would seize it.

She was almost done packing when the door creaked open. She froze with one hand inside her bag.

"Finally," her father's voice resounded behind her back.

He didn't even give her time to turn around before pinning her head against the floor with a rough hand. Allie felt his stubble tingling the skin of her ears when he approached his head to say: "I have been waiting for you for such a long time. You have become too skilled at the art of disappearance."

"Let me go! You are a liar and a murderer!" She tried to kick his legs but he stepped out of the way while keeping his hold on her.

Pulling her upwards, he forced her to face him. She drew in a breath when he saw the glint of wicked satisfaction in his black eyes.

"I'm so hurt by your accusations, my daughter."

"Stop pretending! I know everything now! I remembered it all!"

He laughed and dragged her to the closet. She tried to put up a fight but he was too strong. With one hand, he started emptying the contents of the closet, throwing clothes and fabrics on the floor.

"Leaving again, are you? That will not do. Mr. Saradoc has prepared a very nice correctional program for you. He was so understanding and supportive that I want to make his job simple. So why don't you just agree to be a good girl and obediently do as told?"

She kicked at him wildly. "You can dream! I will never make it simple for you! Never! I didn't do anything wrong! The one who needs help is you!"

Tone still pleasant, he answered: "What are you saying? You did such a terrible thing that it's only natural to be punished for it. I see that you have no intention of being obedient, however. Well then…"

He lifted her off the ground and then threw her inside the closet before quickly shutting the doors closed and passing a wooden bar through the handles to block them from the outside. "Why don't you stay here and reflect on your actions?"

She started banging on the doors savagely. "Let me out! Let me out!"

"But you will only run away if I let you out," Marroc snickered. "Now, I have not been doing my job properly at the inn as of late, so I need to get going now. I hope you see the light by the time I come back."

"No!" Allie shrieked with all her strength, clawing at the ridge between the two doors. "Don't leave me here! Let me out!"

But Marroc was already gone.

Allie tried to reposition herself inside the narrow space but she couldn't move a muscle. She tried pushing at the doors again but they were solidly blocked.

"Let me out!"

After only a few more minutes, she started feeling the darkness closing in on her as she desperately clawed at that slit of light. Her breaths were coming in short and shallow as she hyperventilated, feeling that the oxygen was being sucked out of the place.

She started yelling and shrieking for help, crying and banging on the doors of the closet. She didn't know for how long she called. It could have been hours or mere minutes. When her voice finally gave out, she leaned her head against the wood, exhausted, and stared unblinkingly at the slit of light.

Hours later, she was jerked out of her daze when the voice of her father rose from the other side. "Have you decided to be obedient?"

"Let me out. Let me out. Let me OUT," she shrieked desperately.

But the shape of her father's silhouette simply walked away.

"I hate you! I HATE you!" she howled at his retreating back.

Time tickled past again. She couldn't feel any of her limbs anymore. At one point, she had another panic attack and thought her heart would burst in her chest. She managed to get it under control somehow. As the beating of her heart slowed down, she felt a daze overcoming her. Dark thoughts started rolling in and out of consciousness, like wisps of smoke. The only thing that made the long stretches of time bearable was the thought of what she would do to her father once she got out of there. She imagined stabbing his eyes out with a knife and then ripping his guts out, spilling them on the floor as she watched over his screaming frame.

When she would be done with her father, she would move on to everyone else. That Saradoc person who had handed her to her father would come next. What could she do to punish him? Perhaps she could make a horse trample him to death, crushing his skull and spilling his brains across the green grass. Yes, she could see the scene so clearly in her mind. And Merry could stand by and watch for all she cared. He should watch how his mighty father fell.

And all her friends who had turned on her, how should she punish them all? Perhaps she should tie a rock to their feet and watch them drown in the Brandywine. That would be funny. Or perhaps she should throw them all into the Old Forest and let the trees strangle them to death.

And Frodo, the one she had come to rely on the most, had given her the worst betrayal. Why should she even feel guilty for trash like him? He had lost his parents, but for him the nightmare was over. He was living in a comfortable house, eating all he could eat, sleeping on a soft bed. Soon he would make new friends in that nice little town of his and he would forget all about her. She hated him the most, that good-for-nothing, that hypocrite. How should she punish him?

She banged angrily on the door and then twisted her neck to the other side. She was so thirsty.

"Save me…" she muttered against the damp-smelling wood. "Save me…"

Through the slit of light left by the closet doors, her half closed eyes saw a shadow flashing by on the other side. Was her father back? This time she would pretend that she would yield to his wishes, but when he let her out, she would kill him. The closest knife was in the kitchen drawer. She could picture its location clearly in her mind. She would go there first.

As she tried to piece her plan together, her consciousness started to fall apart beyond her control. The shadow danced on the other side again, and from far, far away, she heard like the clicking on nails on the wooden floor. The last thing she saw before fainting was a big shiny black pupil peaking at her from the other side of the closet door.

The sound of water woke her up. As her eyes flew open, she noticed right away that she was not inside the closet anymore.

Her fingers clenched by her side and dug into dirt. Surprised, she sat up clumsily, her muscles still numb and stiff from her long stay in one position. She was not even in her smial anymore; she could see the sky and the few clouds rolling past. She never realized until now how immense the sky really was.

Looking around with clouded eyes, it took her a moment to recognize her surroundings. She was in a small forest near the Brandywine River. In fact, she could hear the waters rushing past just mere meters away. Like an automaton, she crawled on all fours across the grass until she reached the River, and then fell flat on her stomach as she brought water to her mouth with an eager hand.

When her thirst had been quenched somehow, she sat there and stared at the waters with an empty gaze. She wondered whether this was all a dream.

It took her a few tries to stand up straight, and when she managed to do so, she slowly stumbled back to her smial. Evening was already upon her and stars were twinkling in the night sky, but she remained blind to them.

The door to her smial had been left ajar; she picked up a stone and stepped in fearlessly. If her father was there, she would break his skull with the stone.

However, no one was present.

She lit some candles and approached the closet.

The doors had been ripped off their hinges, and the wooden bar that had served to block them lay broken in many pieces on the floor. She picked one up, and under the light of the candle, saw that it had been sliced through by some sharp object. The broken doors also bore traces of lacerations, as though a sharp sword had cut through them.

The sight of it was really hard to understand. What had happened? Who had done this to get her out, and why? She processed this for a little longer before giving up on understanding. The important thing was that she was out. She still felt as though she was dreaming and none of this was real. She went to the kitchen counter and pulled the top drawer open. There laid the kitchen knife, just as she had pictured it in her head.

She took it. There was a box of matches at the far end of the drawer, and she took that too. They could be useful at starting campfires. She was leaving now. Whether this was a dream or not, she needed to take advantage of her freedom and escape this place.

She went outside and simply started walking towards the North, in direction of Bree, automatically chewing on a piece of dried meat that she had pocketed from her house. It was not very late yet, and a lot of hobbits in Bucklebury were out enjoying the night air. Allie avoided walking through the village, but her grey eyes peeked at them through the side bushes. She hated them so badly that it made her mouth taste bitter.

While bypassing Buck Hill, she saw Merry's figure going up the slope. Her eyes bore into his back until he disappeared from sight. She could not forgive herself for thinking of Merry as her best friend for all this time. She would never allow herself to trust another so easily again.

And finally, finally, she left the village behind and started walking on the lonesome road.

"Allie! Is that you?"

Her hand flew to the knife attached at her hip as she twirled around to face the newcomer. She didn't let go of the handle even when she recognized Berilac.

He eyed her in the dark. "Allie, are you leaving again?"

She didn't answer. Berilac shuffled closer. "Merry told me what happened. I know he is all confused now, but that's because he's not very bright. I'm not like him, though. I still believe in your side of the story. Your father is a strange one and I always knew he would be up to no good."

"So?" she asked, her voice hard, "what are you going to do about it?"

Berilac was unsettled. "Well…"

"Go back."

Berilac pressed his lips together. "No."

Allie approached him and suddenly he could see the cold glint in her grey eyes. "_Go back_."

He backed off a little but wasn't deterred. "Where are you going? Bree? Let me come with you!"

He yelped a little when she suddenly pushed him against the trunk of a nearby tree. His eyes widened when he saw the knife she held in her other hand. "Did they ask you to come and trail me? Is that it?"

"N-no…"

She pinned him back harder. "Do not lie, or I will kill you."

"No!" Berilac protested fearfully. "Allie, what's wrong with you? Stop joking around! Put that thing down!"

"If they didn't ask you to trail me, did they ask you to stop me and bring me back?"

"No! I'm here because I honestly want to come with you."

"Why?" she snarled.

"Because… because I believe you are innocent!"

She gritted her teeth. "You liar…" she whispered angrily, "you are just another liar. You must be. None of you believe me. You can't make me believe you now." She lifted her knife and felt Berilac squirming underneath her grip. "Now you tell me the truth or this is going through your throat!"

Even in the dark, he could see the way her eyes glinted with anger, and he knew that she meant every word.

"I swear… I'm not lying… Allie…"

He let out a scream when she thrust the blade back and stroke down towards him. A second later found the blade planted in the trunk a few centimeters from his face.

Allie backed away and pulled the blade back out. Berilac's knees gave out underneath him as he slid down against the trunk.

"Even if you are telling the truth, just believing in my story will be useless. It will not change anything," she said evenly. "Go back now."

Leaving him there, she walked away.

After a few seconds however, she actually heard Berilac getting up and continuing to follow her in spite of her earlier actions. She eyed him from above her shoulder, surprise and incomprehension battling it out in her head. But soon enough they were replaced by the now familiar numbness. She didn't care if he followed her like a fool. He would tire out soon enough and go home.

Her progression was slow because her limbs were still stiff. Soon, she had to stop and rest for the night. She slid on her winter coat and just sat against a boulder in the fields. Berilac imitated her a few feet away. None of them said anything.

The next morning, she resumed her walk the moment the sun rose. Berilac was still persistently following her, and now even walked by her side instead of behind her.

"Are you going to Bree?" he asked.

"Are you not scared that I will kill you for real if you keep following me?" she asked instead without looking at him.

"I don't believe you are capable of killing anyone."

She had heard that before, from that useless Frodo. She bit her lips. But they were both wrong.

"I mean," Berilac continued, his brown eyes determined, "you saved my life, didn't you? Folk who save lives don't go off taking them."

Her eyes hardened. "I don't remember any of that anymore."

"Allie, what has happened to you exactly?"

"What is the real reason you are so persistent in following me?" she asked without answering, and finally looked at him.

He was a little taken aback at the coldness in her eyes, but swallowed to regain his composure. He opened his mouth to say that it was because he wanted some adventure and he wanted to see Bree, and that she could probably use the company of someone who believed in her innocence, but all of that would have been a lie, because they were not the main reason. Taking in a deep breath, he simply said: "Because I like you."

He felt himself blushing but didn't look away. He had spent a lot of time trying to figure out why he was always annoyed at other lads talking to her, and why he always thought about her, and this was the only conclusion he could come to. He had never thought the day would come when he would like a lass, but now it had happened.

There was no change in her expression when she answered: "What a stupid reason."

"It's not stupid!" he protested.

"You like me? What is that supposed to mean?"

Berilac eyed her profile, at her golden hair framing her face. "It means… it means that I don't hate you. And that I will follow you. That is all."

He tried to read her face, now feeling silly and embarrassed at having revealed his feelings, scared that she was going to mock him, but at the same time hoping that she would finally smile at him and tell him she felt the same.

However, her face remained unreadable.

Suddenly, the sound of voices reached their ears. Looking ahead, they saw a group of five or six kids walking in their direction. Berilac shielded his eyes from the sun and frowned a little when he recognized half of the kids. They were from Bucklebury. The kids spotted the two of them as well, and one of them waved a hand high in the air. "Hello Berilac!"

Allie was tense beside him. He gave her an uncertain look, but she kept her gaze strained on the kids who were now running to meet up with them. The first boy skidded to a halt a few meters away from them when he saw Allie and recognized her. She recognized him too; he was one of the kids that lived by the river.

The boy pointed a finger towards her. "It's the murderer!" he yelled out incredulously. His friends caught up with him and stared at her too, jaws hanging open.

"I heard they were looking everywhere for her!" another said.

"She must have escaped. Come on, lads. Let us catch her and bring her back!" the first boy declared fiercely, eyeing the blonde girl with a smirk.

However, before the boy had even finished speaking, Allie had already swiftly jumped off the road to land inside the tall grass of the fields.

"Allie!" Berilac called out after her, and then to the other kids: "She's not a murderer, all right? Just leave her alone!"

But the kids were not listening to him; one after the other, they jumped into the fields and started running after her, hollering battle cries. Letting out a string of angry words, Berilac chased after them all.

Allie heard footsteps rustling in the grass all around her as she ran. She slid out the knife from her belt as her eyes hardened. She wouldn't let those hateful kids lay a single finger on her. She could do the deed if she needed to, she told herself.

She finally emerged from the grass and saw a barn lying a few yards ahead of her.

"There she is!" a voice behind her called, spurting her to resume her mad dash towards the barn.

However, her muscles were still weak from being confined in the closet and from the lack of food, whereas the boys chasing after her were energized, motivated, and well fed. One of them easily caught up with her. He jumped on her back and the motion sent them both rolling on the ground. Allie screamed and savagely struggled against his hold, kicking him anywhere she could reach.

"You murderer!" he was saying. "I will not let you escape!"

Letting out a cry of rage, she rolled on top of him and affirmed her grip on the knife's handle. The boy's eyes suddenly widened with fear when she elevated the weapon above his face, ready to slash him across the throat.

She saw in his eyes the moment he came to understand that this was not a game anymore, and she relished in the pure fear that now invaded his brown pupils. Hateful kids. They should all go to hell.

"Wait… please…" the boy suddenly begged.

Her hand holding the knife hesitated for just a second, but that second was enough to allow a second boy to smash a rock against the side of her head, knocking her to the ground. The pain at the side of her skull was searing, but she quickly jumped back on her feet. She had dropped her knife and now one of the two boys had it.

"She was going to stab me!" the boy she was battling with shrieked shrilly, his face pale. His companion, however, was holding the knife and was more determined than ever to get her.

Allie was ready to wrestle with the both of them when she spotted the rest of the group catching up. So she started running again with all her might, clenching her teeth as her feet propelled her forward with each stride. She could hear the two boys' panting breaths at the base of her neck as they chased relentlessly after her.

The barn she had spotted before was finally in front of her. She yanked the wooden door open and then shut it closed behind her. A few seconds later, there was a collision against the door as the boys tried to force it open. She quickly slid the bolt into the metal latch, locking her pursuers out.

The kids started banging on the door angrily as they shouted. Breathing rapidly, she backed away while wiping at the sweat on her forehead; her hand came off red with blood. She quickly wiped her hand clean on the side of her pants in alarm. Her skull was bleeding from where the rock had hit her.

"You bastards…" she hissed between her teeth.

Muttering more curses under her breath, she zigzagged among the stacks of hay inside the room and pressed herself against the opposite wall like a cornered animal. The rest of the gang must have caught up with her two pursuers, for the banging suddenly doubled in intensity.

Trembling, she huddled in the far corner and listened as the door creaked and cracked under the blows. Shutting her eyes close, she suddenly saw the image of Robin smiling down at her warmly as he wrapped the pink scarf around her neck for the first time on Yule's night.

"Save me, Robin," she begged as she clasped her hands in prayer.

But Robin was gone and would never come back. She was by herself now. Besides, even when Robin was there, when did he ever protect her against their father? When did he even intercept a blow for her? When did he stand up for her? Never. He kept promising her things would get better, but now she was all alone and everything had become a nightmare.

She looked up with eyes the color of steel. "I hope you are burning in hell, Robin."

She stood up and moved a stack of hay underneath the only tall window of the barn that was above her. She climbed on top of the hay and wrestled with the handle to try and force the window open. It finally unblocked and she pushed the window outwards at the same time as the kids managed to break down the door.

Their screams reached her from below as they spread out inside the room looking for her. She passed her head across the aperture first and then kicked her legs to get the rest of her body out.

"There she is!" one of them gave the alert.

For one frightful second, her mid-section was caught in the window frame and she couldn't move at all. But then she pushed against the sides of the window with all her strength, and her hips came free. She free-fell to the grass underneath the high window and rolled several times on the ground.

A boy's face appeared at the window and he tried to follow her out, but the opening was too small for him.

When his face disappeared, Allie dashed madly to the front door of the barn. All the kids inside turned to look at her when her frame stood out against sunlight pouring into the somber barn. Before giving them time to respond, she yanked the double doors closed and used a nearby stick to block them, just like his father had done to her. The irony did not escape her.

Soon, she heard them starting to pull on the door, demanding to be let out. Still panting, she pressed her head against the door and relished in the vibrations in the wood caused by their desperate attempts. It was their time to suffer.

"How does it feel to be trapped instead? Huh?" She laughed.

"Let us out right now! You will pay for this."

Blinding rage suddenly erupted in her chest.

"No, _you_ will pay. For everything you have done to me. For _everything_."

Slowly, taking her time, she picked out another wooden stick off the ground. Then, she snatched the pink scarf, the scarf her brother had given her, off her waist. With calculated, deliberate movements, she rolled it around one edge of the stick and tied it into a knot. The boys were still trying to yank the doors open while screaming insults at her.

When she was done, she took out the box of matches out of her front pocket and leisurely lit one. She approached it to the scarf and watched, enraptured, as the tissue caught in flames and started burning vividly. Holding her newly made torch, she approached the door.

"Apologize for everything you've done to me."

"Apologize?" a boy's voice rose angrily. "You should be the one apologizing, although no one will forgive you for your evil deeds."

"Say sorry _now_. It's your last chance."

"Or what?"

Allie pushed herself off the door and calmly walked to the high window. She twirled the torch a little in her hand, then took a step back and aimed. The torch drew an arc in the air before flying through the window and into the barn.

With baited breath, she waited for it.

One second, two seconds… then, the first scream of terror finally rose from inside.

The sides of her mouth curved up in a smile.

She took her time walking back to the front door, where the banging was manic now.

She saw wisps of smoke already filtering out from inside the building. The hay must be burning better and faster than she had hoped.

"What did you do? Are you crazy?" a boy shrieked from inside.

She pressed her lips against the wood of the door and whispered: "Apologize."

"All right! We are sorry! We are so sorry! Please let us out!"

"Yes, we will never bother you again if you let us out!" another pleading voice added itself to the first.

Allie licked her lips. Hearing the fear and panic in their voices was satisfying.

"Promise me you will never stand in my way again."

Thick smoke was now filtering out through every crack of the barn and she could hear cracking and snapping sounds as the fire worked on the hay and wood.

"I promise! Anything!"

Coughing sounds now mingled with the panicked voices and the cracking of the fire.

"What? Louder. I can't hear you," she spoke slowly, her eyes hard.

"We promise!" several voices croaked.

"Allie! What are you doing? Let us out now! The fire is spreading!"

She frowned a little; it was Berilac's voice. So he was in there with them too, huh? It seemed like he had joined their camp as well then if he was with them. Not that she was surprised by it. She was expecting betrayal from him any second, and sure enough, he did not disappoint her expectations.

"Allie, I know you hate them, but you are going too far with this! We could die!" Berilac said again, before being seized in a coughing fit.

She couldn't help it, she burst out laughing. "You could die?" she shrieked. "That's precisely what I want! I want you all to burn in hell! I hate you all!"

She knocked her forehead against the door of the barn. "I hate you… I hate you… I hate you…"

She didn't see the smallest boy of the bunch throwing himself out from the tall window just like she had done. The boy rolled on the ground, whimpering a little with pain, before quickly crawling into the underbrush bordering the barn.

The wood was now hot against her forehead. The screaming inside was turning desperate and hysterical. She craned her neck and looked upwards; the flames engulfing the roof danced in her eyes as she debated whether she should let them burn.

_You are not a killer, Allie._

"Shut up, Frodo," she murmured. "Things have changed for you, and so they have for me."

Suddenly, a portion of the roof caved in to the flames and collapsed inwards. The trapped kids' shrieks reached a climax.

"Berilac!" one of them yelled in alarm.

Her eyes widened a little.

Finally, she pulled the wooden stick out, discarding it to the side. Then, she pushed the doors open. The heat wave that hit her body made her stagger backwards. Smoke came rushing out in earnest. The whole inside of the barn and all the stacks of hay were now burning violently. The hobbit kids, almost made unconscious by the heat and smoke, staggered out into the fresh air and let themselves fall on the grass, coughing their lungs out.

Suddenly, she saw Berilac sprawled unconscious on the ground near the door. A pan of his clothes was starting to catch fire. Burying her nose in her sleeve, she ran to his side and dragged him out by one foot. Then, she tapped on his clothes until the fire was put out.

She looked down at his face blackened by the ashes, a flicker of worry igniting in her chest. She knelt beside his body and tried shaking him, but he remained unconscious. "Berilac. Berilac." She called.

From far away, screaming voices arose, coming in their direction. The hobbits living in the surrounding area were all hurrying towards them, alerted by the fire and the smoke. She looked down at Berilac and her gaze turned cold again. The adults would take care of him.

"You are a fool, Berilac," she whispered. "You should have just stayed home."

The kids sprawled down on the ground were now crawling towards the upcoming adults, coughing and sobbing.

She looked at them go and thought they finally looked like the crawling worms that they were. A boy's eyes crossed hers and she read absolute hatred in his eyes. "You are a monster!"

A monster? Yes, that sounded right. She would become that monster her father had so ardently made her out to be.

She wiped at the blood rolling down the side of her face and then turned to watch the barn burn down to the ground. She thought it was a nice sight. If only her father had been inside instead of those kids, she would have left him there to die without a second thought.

_Burn… burn… burn…_

The small hobbit that had escaped from the window suddenly crawled up from behind her. His unsteady hand was holding a stick, and his features were distorted with fear. When Allie heard a sound and started turning around, he screamed and whipped the stick down, knocking her at the back of the head.

She fell to the ground as her vision progressively became blurrier and blurrier. She tried to get up but couldn't. With her face against the grass, she groggily directed her gaze forward, into the bushes, and saw a dark shape crawled there behind the leaves. She blinked once, and saw a pair of huge shiny black eyes staring back at her. They were the most expressive eyes that she had ever seen.

Slowly, her own eyes slid shut.

* * *

Allie was lost in contemplation of the first snow of the year drifting down from the grey skies outside the window of her room. It had been a week since she was brought back to Bucklebury. She was kept confined in a solid room in Brandy Hall as Saradoc proceeded with his efforts to reform her. Although, after the incident at the barn, she knew he didn't have much hope that his intervention would work. The hatred the villagers bore towards her had intensified even further when all the kids ended up with severe second degree burns, with Berilac sustaining the worst injuries.

And she couldn't care less. They all deserved what they got.

Merry had come to see her once. He was angry at her for bringing harm to Berilac. She didn't say a word to him as he went on and on about how he couldn't believe what she had done to his cousin when he actually liked her. As his voice droned in her ear, she couldn't help finding it ironic that she was the reason Merry was now defending Berilac, his supposed enemy, so ardently. She supposed that the one thing Berilac and Merry both had in common now was their hatred towards her. And it suited her just fine.

She didn't feel regret for her actions. In fact, if they let her out of this room again, she would wreck havoc upon the villagers again, for the sole reason of seeing her father getting all the blame for it.

Her father's plan had backfired. Now that she was a real monster just like he had made her out to be, the villagers had turned the finger pointing to him, accusing him of letting her run free and thus giving her the opportunity to cause harm to their children. They were all pressuring him to find a solution, and he had come to see her several times. She could feel his anger towards her emanating from every pore of his body, but apart from glaring at her with hatred, he hadn't found a single thing to say to her.

Allie couldn't even feel satisfaction at seeing her father's lies backfire on him. She couldn't feel anything at all.

A rattle came in direction of the door, before the latter was pushed open. Saradoc's butler appeared at the threshold. "Come. The Master wishes to speak to you."

She stayed where she was and kept her eyes strained on the snow outside the window.

Sighing, the butler came to seize her by the arm, pulling her to her feet. Allie followed him in silence as they walked along the halls of Brandy Hall.

On their way there, they passed by Saradoc's quarters. The door to his room was left ajar, and she caught a glimpse of Saradoc conversing with his wife. The butler urged her on and they walked away on the hallway.

The butler let her inside Saradoc's study and then made her sit on the couch she had sat on when she had come to visit Saradoc with Merry. She didn't even blink when she saw Marroc already sitting there. Marroc glared a little but didn't say a word when the butler made her sit beside him.

"The Master will be with you shortly," he said before going out of the room.

The study was somber as only one lamp was lit. The minutes stretched as measured by the cuckoo clock hanging on the opposite wall. When the second hand of time reached 1, indicating that five minutes had passed, Allie turned her gaze towards the door of the study. Saradoc would be there soon, probably within one minute or two.

"How does it feel like to have your lies become truth?" she suddenly asked her father.

The slap that came knocked her breath away.

"Don't be insolent," he answered.

She massaged her cheek slowly. "I'm surprised you have not come up with a new lie to cover all of this up yet. How disappointing."

Marroc turned towards her, his face red and his fists clenched. "Will you shut up?"

"No."

"You…"

"Deep inside, you know that you are failure of a father," she cut him off evenly, "You told me that mother asked you to take care of me on her death bed. Those were the last words she asked of you, and yet you couldn't even keep your promise because you hated me too much. Every time you see me, I remind you of her, don't I? I've seen her portrait; I know we look really alike."

Marroc's breathing quickened. "You will shut up right now."

"This might be the last time I have this conversation with you anyway, since I'm pretty sure today Saradoc wants to discuss my deportation to the prison-holes. At least that's what the maids in here gossip about."

She turned her empty eyes to look upon him. "Was that your suggestion too, father?"

Marroc remained silent.

"I see. How clever of you. But your reputation has already gone down the drain. And you can believe that I will not just stay quiet at that prison-hole place. I will cause so much damage that news of it will even reach you here in Bucklebury. That way, the folk here will never forget that I almost killed their kids in that fire. What I did will haunt _you_ forever."

He made to slap her again but she simply docked her head to the side, causing him to miss. Flustered, he stood up and towered above her. She looked up at him calmly.

"You shouldn't come to all this length just to cover up Tom's murder, you know? Even if I remembered, I probably would have been too scared of you back then to say anything to anyone. Besides, even if I did, I doubt anyone would believe me, even without you brainwashing them. You blew everything out of proportion and now here we are."

Marroc's expression turned grim.

She smiled a little and pursued: "I will never understand why you were angry enough at Tom to stab him in the first place. Was it because I said I wish you were not my father in front of him?"

Seeing the shocked expression on Marroc's face, she suddenly laughed. "Is that really it? You were insulted by so little? And yet I thought you didn't think of me as a daughter at all. Did I hurt your feelings that day? Poor daddy."

Marroc slapped her again so hard the sound of it resounded loudly in the still room. Her cheek was turning red, but she couldn't even feel the pain.

"Don't think too highly of yourself. I don't regret killing that pest. He had it coming for meddling in other folk's…"

The door to the study flew open and Marroc cut himself off abruptly. Saradoc was standing in the threshold, a stunned expression on his face. "Marroc, what did you just say?"

All the color drained from his face. "I… I… " His crazed eyes turned to Allie. "She was provoking me! She wanted me to say those words! It's all part of her mind games! Don't fall prey to it!"

Allie stood up and went to stand in front of a shocked Saradoc. "You heard it clearly, didn't you? He said he didn't regret killing him. I didn't force him to say that."

Saradoc's eyes narrowed in disbelief as he eyed Marroc's shifting gaze. "You… if that is true… what have you done?"

Seeing her father looking like a deer caught in headlights, she suddenly burst out laughing hysterically.

In two long strides, Marroc was by her side with his hand in her hair. He couldn't hold back anymore now that everything seemed lost.

"You trash! You planned this! You planned this from the beginning, didn't you?"

She let her father hit her with his hands and fists, her body feeling like that of a ragged doll in his grip. That was the funniest part. She hadn't even planned it. She had just thought of it on the spot with no real hope that her timing would work.

Saradoc was stunned into immobility, his mind reeling at this new turn of events. He snapped out of it with difficulty and stared, baffled, at Marroc hitting the girl. He stepped forward hesitantly, wondering how he should break them off, when someone else beat him to it.

Allie looked up from behind the curtain that her hair made in front of her face. A middle-aged hobbit she did not know was holding back Marroc's arm. His gaze was clear and hard as he steadily pushed Marroc back and away from her.

"You all heard what this hobbit just said", the middle-aged hobbit declared loudly.

She saw from the corner of her eye a throng of hobbits starting to gather in the hall outside the study. Several maids were there, along with Saradoc's butler, and Emma.

The stranger pursued: "he has admitted himself that he was the one who did the killing. And yet he blamed this girl for it this entire time. The worst thing is that and you all believed him, and _still_ struggle to believe him in spite of the spectacle he is giving you. Shame on you!"

Saradoc looked down.

The hobbit continued implacably: "You watch as this hobbit hurts his own daughter in broad daylight, right under your nose, and you hesitate to interfere? Shame on you! I am disappointed in you as the Master of Buckland."

Saradoc looked contrite. "You are right, and I'm very sorry. I have been short sighted."

Marroc turned towards Saradoc with disbelief. "What? Don't listen to this fellow! Who is he anyway?"

Saradoc's eyes turned hard as he seized Marroc by the shirt and pinned him against the wall. "I am much to blame, but you are worse! How can you deceive me, deceive _all_ of us, all this time? We welcomed you here with open arms, and this is what we get in return? Your dishonesty and manipulative plans bring shame to our race!"

Allie was following the exchange through a daze. Her plan worked, didn't it? But was this really reality? Who were all these folk?

The hobbit who had interfered was looking at her now, and she froze. He scrutinized her for awhile more and then gave her a warm and reassuring smile. She just stared back emptily in return.

"The person going to the prison-holes will not be your daughter, but you!" Saradoc finished grimly.

Marroc's eyes turned pleading. "No! This is insane. This isn't how it's supposed to end." He pointed in direction of Allie. "Look, she committed arson! I had nothing to do with that!"

Saradoc finally looked uncertain at this, but the newcomer cut in again: "How low can you stoop? Till the very end, you wish your own daughter's downfall, don't you? You have done enough damage to her. I hope you reflect on your wrongdoings from the darkness of the prison-holes!"

Marroc crossed Allie's gaze and anger ignited in him. Breaking free of Saradoc's grip, he bolted towards her with pupils dilated, letting out a beastly scream of resentment. Allie stepped back one step, but tripped on her feet, and would have fallen if not for someone's hands under her arms.

The newcomer hobbit restrained Marroc with both hands and pushed him back. Saradoc and his butler came to help him, and together they neutralized him.

"You monster!" Marroc was shrieking in direction of Allie. "You killed my wife! And now you have ruined my life! If you don't receive punishment now, one day you will! Mark my words!"

"Let's take him away for now," Saradoc said to his butler.

Marroc continued screaming and kicking as he was being dragged away. All the maids were watching him go with repugnance, a hand to their mouth. The stranger also added his efforts to those of Saradoc and the butler. Before they walked out of earshot, he turned around and looked in Allie's general direction.

He said: "Frodo, my boy, why don't you take the lass and go wait for me by the cart?"

Allie's eyes widened when the person who had caught her by the arms answered: "Yes, Uncle."

She turned around vividly and met Frodo's blue eyes.

Seeing him only accentuated her feeling that the events unfolding in front of her pertained to the realm of dreams. She stepped away from him, trembling, and just stared at him.

"Allie…It's all right. It's just me," he spoke reassuringly. "I told my Uncle your story and convinced him to come. It seems that we have made it just in time! Everything will be all right now."

Allie watched him for a moment longer.

Everything was all right now? Then why couldn't she feel happy about it? Why couldn't she feel anything?

"Bilbo said to go wait for him at the cart. Come."

Allie walked behind him obediently, and the crowd parted way for them, looking at the boy and the dishevelled girl as they passed them by.

Then, they were outside, reached a cart stationed nearby and climbed onto it.

For hours, they waited in silence. She could feel Frodo's puzzled and worried gaze on her face, wondering about her silence, but she didn't look away from the window once.

She closed her eyes. It wasn't the first time that she dreamt of salvation, but every time, it just made waking up all that harder afterward. Besides, why would Frodo come for her when he was supposed to hate her? None of it made any sense. And even if he was really here and this wasn't a dream, it was too late. She'd lost everything.

Her eyes snapped open when her head bounced against the wooden post. She looked around wildly, wondering where she was, until she realized that the cart she was sitting in was now moving. She blinked. Was she still in that dream?

Frodo was still sitting beside her, and his mouth was forming words that sounded ridiculous to her ears.

Something about going to live with him and his Uncle at Bag-End. Something about Saradoc giving Bilbo permission to do so.

Her eyes looked past Frodo's head to the scenery rolling past outside the window.

Recognition flashed in her eyes when she spotted the grass field with the lone smial standing at its edge. It looked dark and unwelcoming, and she wished she could burn it down like she had done to the barn.

"Burn… burn… everything should burn down to ashes," she muttered under her breath. "Everything."

When there was nothing left, then perhaps she would be able to feel again.

* * *

End of part one, y'all :)

**FreakyFantasy:** well hello there! I absolutely loved your review! :D Thanks! No, you're definitely not wonky in the head. I did say that this would be a twist on the LOTR story that we all know and love. Events will have to unfold differently because... well, you will see, haha. And Frodo doesn't get the ring till his uncle is like 111 years old, so he will set out on the Quest as an adult ;) As for whether Allie joins him or not.. well, I cannot say anything at this point =P It's true that the story is mainly from Allie's point of view, but in part two, Frodo will be more prominent. So if you like him, you are in for a treat. And you're not bothering me at all with your guesses! I love listening to your thoughts as to where this fic could go! :) Your support means the world to me! 3 Thanks again for writing such an amazing review!


	17. Wild Child

**PART II: HOBBITON**

* * *

**Wild Child**

_Hobbiton, Bag End, one year later_

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

Bilbo groaned and rolled in his bed, facing away from the sound.

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

His eyes creaked open a little but he only saw darkness inside his bedroom. What time was it? Rolling onto his stomach, he tried to snap his eyes open as the knocking on the door persisted.

"Not again…" he mumbled.

The knocking was becoming more pressing now.

"Frodo! Go get the door. It's your turn!" he yelled before burying his face under a pillow.

A few seconds later, he heard his nephew pass by the tunnel outside his room, bumping a little against the walls as he tried to change into a shirt while muttering under his breath.

Frodo, hair still looking like a bird's nest, yanked the front door open, finally putting an end to the constant banging. An old lady hobbit was standing at his doorstep, and as soon as she saw Frodo's face, she started shrieking out angry words in a high pitched voice. Frodo grimaced and used both hands to cover up his ears lest he wanted to become deaf.

The old lady finally ran out of breath, and Frodo uncovered his ears.

"You will need to say that again. But less loud, please."

The old lady put pressure on his chest with her forefinger. "It's that wild child of yours again! Does she not sleep?"

Frodo sighed. He knew it would be about her. "What did she do this time?"

"What did she do?" she shrieked again, borderline hysterical. "Oh, nothing much. She just started a fight again with my boy and his friend down at the farm. And the sun hasn't even risen yet! Why don't you and that uncle of yours lock her up for the night? Why do you let her roam around in the night like an animal? I cannot fathom what that old senile Bilbo was thinking when he brought her down from that wretched place! My husband and I…"

Frodo put up a hand to silence her. "All right, all right, I will go get her."

He quickly rushed down the few steps outside his door to get away from her screaming, which had resumed again. She brandished a fist at his back as she screeched: "Just get her? Why don't you get her and give her a good spanking too for good measure? That child has no manners!"

Frodo only stopped running when her screams were finally out of earshot.

The sun was only now rising in the East, sending warm rays down on the dew-filled grass. Frodo rubbed his eyes as he walked, and then yawned. The air was chilly for this September morning; he lifted his face and looked at the clouds drifting into a mosaic of shapes against the blue sky.

Soon, the farm's shape could be seen delineated against the morning sun ahead of the fields.

Frodo quickened his pace. Everything was quiet when he reached the farmhouse. He was about to knock when the door flew open, and out came two lads with bruises all over their faces and arms. Their eyes narrowed when they saw Frodo standing there in front of them.

Frodo attempted to give them his best smile. "Good morning."

"Loser," one of the boys snarled before walking past.

Those two boys were Ted Sandyman and Sancho Proudfoot, friends of Lotho Sackville-Baggins, who was Lobelia's son. They didn't like Frodo because Lotho didn't like him.

Frodo ignored their stunts and entered the farm; a pony neighed a little upon seeing him pass by. In the courtyard, he saw Sancho's father holding onto Allie by the wrist with a grim expression on his face. Allie stood still beside him, a rebellious frown in place. There was a scratch on her cheek and her clothes were smeared with fresh dirt.

"Finally!" the hobbit thundered upon seeing Frodo.

For a good five minutes, the old hobbit just ranted about how uneducated Allie was, and how Bilbo was not in his right mind, adopting two Brandybucks (they also saw Frodo as a Brandybuck) out of nowhere and causing the villagers to suffer from their inadequate behaviour.

"This is what we get! Do we have to accept her misbehaviour much longer? Why, you just ought to spank her to make her learn! And you, lass, do you have nothing to say? Can you not even apologize for assaulting my boy without good reason?"

Frodo eyed Allie, but she just shot the hobbit a deadly glare. Frodo sighed when that look alone sent him into another fit of unsuppressed anger.

Only after Frodo promised for the thousandth time that yes, he would make sure his uncle punished her, and yes, they would try and make her understand that fighting was bad, did the old hobbit let go of her wrist reluctantly.

"Really, that Baggins sends his nephew to deal with this? Does he not have the decency to come and talk to me himself?"

Frodo quickly pulled Allie away as they left him there to continue complaining by himself.

They walked back home in silence on the narrow dirt road, she in front, him following closely behind.

"What happened in there, Allie?" he finally asked. "You must have beaten them up for a reason, right?"

She didn't answer.

Frodo reported his attention on the road and just kept on walking silently by her side. The truth was that she hadn't said a word ever since Bilbo had brought her to live with them in Hobbiton a year ago.

At first she had locked herself up in the room they had assigned to her, and hadn't come out for several days. When she finally did, she always had this careful and haunted look in her eyes. She did not trust anyone and did not listen to anyone. She seemed a complete stranger from the lass he used to know.

For the longest time, Frodo tried getting her to say something, anything, but she just remained obstinately mute and ignored his best efforts to get a word out of her. He tried everything from telling jokes, to scaring her, to just getting plain angry at her, but nothing managed to faze her.

She didn't care about anything, especially not about the manners that the villagers were so adamant that she learned, and she did not seek out anyone's company. When she was hungry, she stole things from the market or other people's crops and ate them shamelessly. She walked straight to where she wanted to go, not caring if she had to cross other people's properties to get there. Sam Gamgee, the boy who worked as Bilbo's gardener, almost had a heart attack when he saw her trampling over his newly cultivated flowers.

The kids were all scared of her because often she would just sit on the roofs of the smials and watch them intensely as they walked past her below. The adults all lowered their voices when they spoke of her, blaming Bilbo for bringing a Brandybuck wild child into their peaceful lives.

It was like that for the longest time, until Longbottom's birthday party in the summer. When the party was at its climax and all the guests had arrived, Longbottom saw Allie standing by the table eating the cake and subsequently tried to chase her away. Allie remained obstinately rooted to her spot, ignoring his commands that she leave his party. Bilbo had come to her defense then, proclaiming that they had no right to exclude her from the party when all the other kids could eat and drink as they pleased. He said the folk here did not know anything about the difficult things she had to endure and that they should give her a chance.

From that day on, Frodo had seen a subtle change in her. She still didn't take orders from anyone else, but when the orders came from Bilbo, she tended to comply more.

As for Frodo, he just wished she would talk to him again. Merry had told him in his letters his version of what had happened in Buckland, but Frodo wanted to reserve judgement until he heard what she had to say for herself. He wanted to believe that the fire was just an accident.

Frodo and Allie stopped walking when they finally reached Bag-End.

"Come on, let's go get some breakfast," Frodo said. "I had to wake up at such an unholy hour because of that lady banging on the door, and now I'm starving."

Allie, however, was looking to her right, to the side of the road and the trees beyond. Frodo looked in that direction, but saw nothing of interest.

"Allie?"

She didn't answer, and didn't move. Frodo's gaze glided down to her cheek, where the red scratch stood out vividly against her pale skin.

"You should get that cleaned up."

He raised a hand to touch it, but she sensed his movement. A pair of grey eyes came to lie on his hand, causing Frodo to lower it slowly.

Without a word, Allie twirled around and left.

"What about breakfast?" he yelled at her retreating back.

No answer.

"Don't go stealing from the market again when you get hungry!" he added for good measure.

She was already gone. Frodo sighed. At least it would be his Uncle's turn to resolve the next disaster.

Sam's head peaked up from behind the roses of his garden.

"You shouldn't try so hard for her, Mr. Frodo," he said. "She's a lost cause."

Frodo knew Sam didn't like her ever since she trampled his flowers. "I don't think so. I've seen how she was like before. I'm sure the Allie I used to know is still in there somewhere," he replied sadly.

But Sam looked dubious.

* * *

The bells chimed three times, pulling Frodo out of his reverie. The homeroom teacher, a young and pretty hobbit woman named Cora, clapped her hands in front her. "That's it for today, kids. Don't forget your algebra homework for tomorrow."

"Yes, miss Cora," the kids replied in unison.

Frodo hurried up to put his books and pens inside his bag. Ted Sandyman and Sancho Proudfoot were observing him from the corner of the classroom, and when they saw Frodo leaving, they followed him.

They trailed him silently as he left school and started the walk back home. When Frodo reached one of the stone bridges, Ted and Sancho exchanged a glance before Sancho quickened his pace and cut in front of Frodo, knocking shoulders with him.

"Watch where yer going," Sancho said disdainfully.

Frodo glared, but mumbled a quick "sorry."

"That didn't sound very sincere," Ted commented from behind.

Frodo remained silent. Sancho and Ted advanced towards him, and Frodo looked at one and then the other with wary eyes. They pressed him until his back was against the stone bridge.

"Did Lotho send you again?" Frodo asked.

Ted arched an eyebrow. "Listen here, are you implying we are Lotho's dogs?"

"Are you not?"

Ted's eyes hardened, but Sancho pushed him back. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to be insolent right now, Baggins. Especially considering that you've got your own dog that you've trained well to defend you."

Frodo frowned in confusion, but Sancho was pursuing: "Tell you what, we will let you off the hook if you tell us something."

Frodo remained quiet, his hands feeling the wall of the bridge behind him to see if there were any loose rocks.

Ted placed a hand on Frodo's shoulder, and approaching his head, whispered: "How queer is that Bag-End place? I heard it's got evil spirits floating around."

Frodo pinched his lips.

"Folk say your Uncle has gone senile from being exposed to them for so long, and that's why he went to Buckland to adopt a loser and a wild child."

Frodo felt anger rising in his chest. "You are just saying this because Bilbo has made me his heir. Your master Lotho must be seething that his family will not get a single penny out of this, much less Bag-End."

Ted's hand tightened on his shoulder. "Lotho is not our master!"

"Then why do you obey his every word? He sent you here again to bother me, didn't he?"

Sancho laughed. "You're wrong, Baggins. We have our own will, and our will is to bother you. Oh yes, and also to get back at you for your dog's misbehaviour. Like they say, the actions of the dog reflect on its master."

Frodo's hand found a loose rock and he seized it. "I don't know what you are talking about," he replied coldly.

Sancho pointed at the still visible bruise on his cheek. "That wild child of yours, quite a violent one isn't she?"

Ted said: "At the farm that morning, I was just telling Sancho how my father thinks that your parents didn't die from an accident at all. No, do you know what his theory is?"

Frodo felt his heart pounding hard.

"His theory is," Ted continued, "that your father pushed your mother out of the boat because he was getting tired of her, and then your mother caught on to him and pulled him along with her as she fell into the water."

Sancho was snickering. "Now that seems way more plausible."

"Obviously, your wild child didn't think so, because she jumped on us after she heard."

"So tell us, what exactly is the truth?"

Frodo's whole body was trembling. "Don't you dare talk about my parents like this," he said through clenched teeth.

"What are you mumbling?" Ted asked while getting closer.

Frodo's blue eyes blazed with barely suppressed rage as he seized Ted by the collar of his shirt and then jerked him into the stream.

He then turned around to face Sancho with the rock in hand, but Sancho was already in front of him and knocked the rock out of his hand. They struggled for a moment, until Ted climbed back up onto the sore and grabbed Frodo by the ankle, pulling him into the stream as well.

"Nice one, Ted," Sancho said while standing up.

Ted wanted to go at Frodo again, but Sancho restrained him. "I think that's enough for today." And to Frodo: "See you tomorrow at school, loser."

They snickered as they walked away.

Frodo remained seated in the stream, letting the cool waters calm down the boiling anger inside of him. Sometimes he wished Bilbo hadn't made him the heir. Then, he wouldn't have to endure all this. He didn't even care about being the owner of Bag-End or any of his uncle's riches.

He stood up and tried his best to drain the water from his wet clothes. His white shirt was so wet that it had become transparent. Picking up his school bag, he continued walking towards Bag-End with a clenched jaw. At the last minute however, he changed his mind. He didn't want to see Bilbo asking him what had happened.

He veered directions and entered the woods instead. His steps led him to the base of the thickest tree. He climbed on top of it rapidly, until he reached a wooden platform installed at a fork in the branches; it was installed deep inside the foliage and hidden from view from below. Frodo had only discovered it because he had seen Allie climbing up that tree a few months ago.

The platform was deserted. Frodo let out a sigh of relief and lied down on his back to look at the dense leaves. He needed some place quiet to calm down and forget about what Ted and Sancho said. It made him angry and sad, and as he lied there on the platform, he felt very alone. Allie never told him not to come here, since she refused to utter a word, but whenever she'd see him up here, she would leave instead. Frodo half wished she'd yell at him to get off her platform, like she used to before.

After a few minutes, he sat up. His clothes were still wet and he was getting cold.

At that moment, the foliage suddenly rustled and then Allie's head popped up to peek above the platform. Her eyes didn't betray any surprise or other emotion when she saw him already up there. They stared at each other for a minute in silence.

Then, her hands let go of the platform, and she was about to climb back down when Frodo called out her name in a low voice. She looked up at him again, her eyes taking in his dishevelled appearance and wet clothes.

"Come up for a second," Frodo urged as he patted the spot next to him.

Slowly, she seized the platform again and hoisted herself up.

She stood there for awhile, just looking at him, before she went to one corner of the platform to pull two branches apart, revealing a satchel hanging there. She took it down and went to sit beside Frodo.

Frodo watched as she shook out the contents of the satchel, spreading them onto the platform at her feet. He saw a handful of apples, some oranges and grapes, and some nuts and almonds. There was also a piece of cheese wrapped in paper. She picked up an apple and starting eating it.

"Do you remember when I saw you doing that for the first time?" Frodo asked. "I called you a squirrel."

She continued eating and Frodo leaned back on his hands. "And then we got into a fight, and then you dared me to climb on the tree. I sure have no trouble climbing now."

She kept her eyes set forward calmly.

"We fought a lot back then, didn't we? I always got along pretty well with other folk, but you were the only person I found myself getting annoyed at. In fact, you were probably the first enemy I have ever made. But then, you became my frenemy. After a time, I think we even became friends. We never said so officially, but that is how I felt. Do you know that you are the first lass that I'm friends with? I have never truly talked to girls before I met you. Then again, you are not like most girls in here, so I don't know whether talking to you would count."

He didn't really expect an answer from her, and she didn't give him one. However, she was chewing more slowly as she listened to him speak.

"I really miss those days when things were clear, if you know what I mean," he continued. "Back then, even when things became rough, at least I had friends to talk to. Here, folk are just… they don't know me. And they don't like the fact that I come from Buckland. I don't even know what I'm doing here. Some days I'm thinking of just running away and going back to Buckland. But there's nothing there for me anymore. Sometimes I just feel like I don't belong anywhere."

His eyes became distant.

Slowly, she put down the half-eaten apple.

"I know why you punched Sancho and Ted at the farm," he smiled sadly. "Thank you for that."

She finally threw him a sidelong glance.

"I know things have changed ever since that day when you came to find me all the way from Buckland. But Allie, on that day, I…"

Suddenly, she stood up, dropping her apple on the platform. Frodo stared up at her back; whenever he brought up that day, she would get worked up like this. It was the only time he got the impression she cared about something. He sighed and didn't pursue it further.

After a moment, she crouched down and started putting her food back into the satchel. Frodo didn't look at her and just hugged his knees as he buried his head in his forearms. His wet shirt was still sticking to his skin, and he shivered as the wind blew against it. He heard her hanging the satchel back among the branches. Then, he heard the rustling sound of her clothes.

Then, there was silence. He felt a pang of sadness and loneliness when he thought she'd left.

What he didn't expect was something falling over his head and shoulders. Startled, he looked up in time to see Allie's blonde hair disappearing down the tree. His movement caused the piece of clothing to glide down his head and into his lap. It was the vest that Allie had been wearing. Frodo held it in his hands for a moment, surprised and grateful as to what had just happened. She hadn't done anything of the sort ever since she had come to Bag End.

He felt a warm feeling tinkle down his chest as he slid her vest over his damp shirt.

* * *

Allie was walking down the marketplace when she felt something being dropped into her pocket. She stuck her hand in there and came up with a wooden hair comb. Frowning slightly, she turned around to scan the busy street at the same time as a boy's voice yelled: "Thief! I saw a thief!"

All the adults stopped walking and turned to him. Allie saw that it was Lotho Sackville-Baggins. He was pointing in her direction. "I just saw her taking something off the stand! Look, she's still holding it in her hands!"

"Hey, that's my comb!" a fat lady yelled, her eyes narrowing down suspiciously when she spotted it between Allie's fingers.

"It's the wild child."

"She's been caught with her hand in the bag."

"She is so shameless, stealing in broad daylight."

Allie eyed all the passersby muttering disapprovingly while looking at her. Lotho was smirking from behind the fat lady. Allie dropped the comb and disdainfully crushed it with her heel right in front of all their faces. The snapping sound the comb made silenced everyone for a while, before the proprietor shrieked.

Allie turned around and made her escape. The fat lady knelt down and picked up the broken pieces of her comb sorrowfully. Some adults gave chase to the girl, but by the time they broke free of the crowd, she was already nowhere to be seen.

When she reached the water mill, Allie stopped running. She had sprained her ankle a little when she had stepped on a rock. She was about to wet her foot in the still waters of the lake when she heard laughter rising up from behind her.

Lotho was walking up to her, panting slightly. "Hi, thief."

She sat down by the lake, thoroughly ignoring him. A flash of irritation crossed Lotho's eyes.

"Why are you always so mute? Did they cut your tongue? Are you unwell in your head?"

He laughed when she didn't respond. "Perhaps you don't even understand what I'm saying right now. You must be retarded then. I hope it's not contagious. When my mother gets her hands on Bag-End, we are going to have to disinfect every room for having housed scum like you and especially like that Frodo Baggins."

She turned violently, her grey eyes hard.

Lotho backed away one step. "O-ho! Why do you react so strongly whenever we insult that loser?"

She clenched her hands into fists.

"Ted and Sancho told me how you jumped on them like a wild dog when they called Frodo's father a nutcase who wanted to drown his wife." He laughed. "Maybe Frodo inherited that. Be careful or one day he might decide to drown you in the lake as well."

Allie bolted, her fist missing Lotho's jaw by mere centimeters. However, she managed to knock him to the ground using the weight of her momentum. Lotho started screeching for help, and soon enough, she found herself lifted in the airs and then thrown off Lotho.

Scrambling to her feet, she saw Ted and Sancho now standing behind a flushed Lotho. "What took you so long, idiots?" Lotho was screaming at them.

"Sorry," Ted muttered darkly.

"Whatever, let's go get her!"

All three came at her at once. She dashed forward as well and collided against Sancho's stomach, knocking the breath out of him. She managed to land a punch to his nose before the other two seized her and pinned her to the ground. Sancho backed away, yelping in pain as his nose started bleeding.

Irate, Ted held her in place as Lotho kicked her sprawled form on the ground. Allie dug her fingernails into the ground and knitted her brow in pain.

It was this scene that Frodo came upon as he passed by the lake.

"What are you doing? Get off her!"

Lotho smirked upon seeing him and then resumed the kicking. "Look up dog, your master is here now. It is too bad that he's a wimp and a loser. He's no opponent for us."

Frodo tensed. He had never been in a fight, and his parents as well as Bilbo had always told him not to use his fists to solve his problems. But, as he took in Allie's appearance and Lotho's hateful sneer, he forgot all about their warnings.

Letting out a cry of rage, he bolted towards Lotho with his fist raised. Ted let go of Allie and intercepted him in mid-step. Allie took advantage of her arms being set free to cling onto Lotho's calf. She pulled hard until the boy lost his balance and fell on his ass. She then punched him in the face so hard that it sent him rolling in the grass. Clinching his bruised cheek, Lotho suddenly started wailing.

In the meantime, Frodo was wrestling with Ted, but Ted was bigger in stature and also more experienced in fighting. Allie was about to tackle Ted when Sancho stopped cradling his broken nose and hit his shoulder against her chest, sending them both flying on the ground once more. Then, he climbed on top of her and pinned her arms down as he pressed his knee against her stomach. Allie cringed in pain.

Suddenly, she heard a dull sound as Ted's fist connected with Frodo's cheek, sending the latter on the ground.

Her grey eyes sent daggers as she raised her knee with all her strength, hitting Sancho in his private parts. Sancho's body went flabby like that of a boneless fish as he fell to the side howling in agonizing pain.

Allie stood up like lightning and then jumped onto Ted's back, pulling his ears back until he let out a scream. Frodo was on the ground, holding his burning cheek. Allie was breathing fast as she clung to Ted's back and bore her gaze intensely onto Frodo.

Frodo shakily stood up and positioned himself to fight again.

A little whine escaped Allie's throat as she stared at Frodo and shook her head. Ted was now trying madly to shake her off but she dug her nails into his ears and refused to let go.

Frodo's eyes were darting between her and Ted, looking for an opening. Allie suddenly opened her mouth and yelled: "Run, you idiot!"

Ted and Frodo both froze at the sound of her voice. Allie took this opportunity to let go of Ted's ears to kick him in the guts instead. That sent him colliding with the ground with one hand holding his midsection in pain. Lotho was still wailing and Sancho had one hand in between his legs.

Frodo's stunned eyes were still upon her. She took his wrist and pulled him along as they ran madly from the three boys on the ground.

They ran and ran until they reached Bag End. Sam looked up from his gardening work and did a double take when he took in Frodo and Allie's appearance.

"Mr. Frodo! What's happened to you? Did you get into a fight?"

Allie went straight into Bag End without a word and Frodo's eyes followed her. "Yes…" he answered distractedly, still stunned by the fact that Allie had finally spoken.

Sam was scandalized. "Oh my! What will Mr. Bilbo say? I bet it was all her fault!"

Frodo shook his head. "No Sam, it wasn't."

Sam watched with a frown as Frodo went inside the house. Frodo found Allie in the kitchen putting ice cubes into a towel.

"You just spoke," he said, still in wonder.

Allie didn't answer. Frodo yanked her away from her task impatiently. "You just spoke!" he repeated.

She saw the hopeful and delighted glint in his eyes and then looked away uncomfortably. Frodo's hand tightened on her arm; it was the first time he was seeing her adopt an expression that was not empty or blank.

"Was that a one-time thing? Or have you decided to start speaking again?" he urged.

She glared at him and yanked her arm free in order to continue her task of putting ice cubes into the towel. Frodo just stared at her profile for a while before sighing. It was probably a one-time thing.

Allie finished making her ice pack and handed it to Frodo sullenly. Frodo just stared at her blankly, so surprised he didn't even make a gesture to take it. Allie bit the side of her cheek and touched the ice pack to his red and swollen cheek, causing him to flinch a little at the coolness of it.

His hand flew up automatically to take hold of the ice pack, and Allie let go of it.

"Thank you," he murmured.

She met his gaze and his breath hitched an instant in his throat; he didn't remember the last time her eyes were this relaxed and clear.

"Thank you for rushing into the fight, even though that was extremely idiotic of you."

Frodo almost dropped his ice pack at the sound of her voice again. She really needed to stop speaking up all of a sudden like this! But then he realized how foolish that thought was. It was a great thing that she was talking again.

"You have managed to call me an idiot twice ever since you have decided to speak again," was all he could find to say. Then, he quickly added: "I almost forgot how your voice sounds like."

She just looked at him. Frodo's other cheek turned red as well.

"Why did you wait for so long?" he added in a low voice.

"I had nothing to say before."

"Even when I asked you so many times…"

"I know what you wanted to ask me," she cut him off, her eyes becoming clouded again. "All you wanted to know was why I set fire to the barn. But I have to nothing to say to that. I have no excuse, no embellishment, to give you for what I did."

She walked to the door. "You must be thinking that only a monster could have set fire to a place full of other children, and you are right. So go ahead and think of me that way."

Then, she left.

Slowly, Frodo sank down onto the chair beside the kitchen table and put down the ice pack. The ice cubicles inside settled briskly.

That night at dinner, Frodo, Allie and Bilbo sat at the table as they ate in silence. Bilbo tried to start some conversation, but Frodo and Allie remained unresponsive. Bilbo eyed Frodo's bruised cheek and Allie's hard expression, and surmised something must have happened.

When they were all done eating, Bilbo said: "Frodo, my boy, it seems that I've made too much of that chicken. Why don't you be a dear and go bring it to the old Gaffer? He never says no to extra food."

Frodo nodded silently and left with the dish.

Allie was about to sneak away when Bilbo subtly came in between her and the door. "Ahh, today I suddenly feel like smoking some Longbottom Leaf. It's a little dull to do so by myself though, so you will keep me company, won't you, Allie?"

Allie didn't reply, but when Bilbo took his pipe and headed outside, she reluctantly followed him.

Sitting on the first step of the stairs, Bilbo filled his pipe and then took one puff of it, exhaling it in a string of smoke with a sound of satisfaction. Allie sat beside him, but not too close, and stared at the neighboring smials.

"Ah, no wonder these leaves are the best thing the Shire has ever produced."

They sat a moment in silence, and then Bilbo suddenly glided close to her and nudged her with an elbow. "Do you want to see something fancy?"

Without waiting for a reply, he took a puff of weed, held it in his mouth for a while, and then blew it out in a shaky half circle.

Allie blinked, and Bilbo laughed at her expression. "It is supposed to come out as a ring, but I haven't perfected it yet."

His hand not holding the pipe felt the pockets of his jacket until he came up with a big golden ring. Allie's eyes widened when she laid eyes on it. The surface was so shiny and polished that she could see her own distorted reflection on its surface.

"Yes, it is supposed to be shaped like this."

Bilbo held the ring up and closed an eye to peer through it. He smiled when he caught Allie staring it with wide eyes. "This ring is my most precious possession. It's a token I found while I was on an adventure a long, long time ago. Time really does fly."

She stared up into his crinkling brown eyes. Bilbo touched a finger to her nose. "Yes, yes, this old man here was also young once upon a time, and has seen things few folk see in their entire lifetime. I bet you are curious about my little adventure now, aren't you?"

He laughed at her puzzled expression. Putting the ring away, he sighed and took another puff off his pipe. "I was young then. Young and intrepid. Much like Frodo, actually."

Allie balanced her legs a little against the steps.

"Yes, a lot of people wonder why I adopted that boy when his parents passed away. That is simply because, when I looked into his young and yet already sorrowful eyes, I saw the same fire that burns inside of me. It was like looking at myself when I was his age."

Bilbo smiled with nostalgia. "That day when Gandalf the Wizard came to find me, I shall never forget it. I didn't know I had in me to just let everything drop and leave for the unknown, but I did it, and I have not regretted my decision once ever since. Frodo is the same. He is a good lad, and sometimes I see in his eyes this yearning to go to the outside world. Although – he chuckled – I'm not sure how well he will handle going on a real adventure when he has no sense of direction! Oh yes, I remember that day when you came here to visit him a year ago. When that lad heard you'd left, he ran after you to catch up with you, still in his pajamas, but he only managed to get himself lost. A Shirriff found him wandering around the woods at nightfall and brought him back home. "

He laughed again, but interrupted himself when Allie sprang up on her feet and stared at him ardently, her grey eyes glimmering in the semi-darkness.

"What?" she croaked.

If Bilbo was surprised at the sound of her voice, he didn't let it show. Taking another puff off his pipe, he slowly breathed out the smoke and gently nodded, his brown eyes warm.

Allie remained frozen on the spot and Bilbo softly patted her head. "You are good lass too, Allie. You have been through a lot, but I know that you will learn from it and become a better hobbit. You and Frodo, you are both strong."

He tried to take another puff, but his pipe was empty now. Sighing, he stood up and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Well, thank you for keeping me company, young lass. Now I hope you will go sleep in your room tonight. It's getting too chilly to spend the night outside."

He winked, and then went back inside.

Allie barely heard him leave. She stood there on the top of the stairs for a long time like a statue. Finally, she sauntered down the steps distractedly and went to climb on top of the fence surrounding Bag End's garden, sitting there with her chin in her hands.

That's how Frodo found her when he came back from the old Gaffer's house.

"Allie?"

She was so startled that she almost fell backwards. She held onto the fence with her hands at the last second and managed to stabilize herself. Then, she slid down to the ground awkwardly.

Frodo and her gazed at each other for a moment in the night.

"I never thought of you as a monster," Frodo whispered in the dark. "I never did and I never will. We all make mistakes. I don't care about the past anymore, Allie. In fact, I'm sick of it. I just want to forget everything and start anew here."

He wanted to walk past her, but she held onto a pan of his shirt with her fingers.

"Me too, Frodo."

Frodo turned his head slightly and could smell the scent of wild grass on her skin.

"I'm sorry," she added in a low whisper.

"For what?"

"I don't know. Just… it felt right to say it."

She let go of his shirt. "Good night."

He suddenly felt light hearted for a second. Even if he couldn't see her clearly in the dark, he could feel that something had changed.

"Good night, Allie."

* * *

Please leave a comment! :D

Meep: Thanks! :D Hope you enjoyed this one as well!

FreakyFantasy: Awww sorry if last chapter was a little too dark. I needed to portray Allie's descent into darkness for the first time. I thought for once I should write about a character who is not a goody two shoes all the time and who should have some conflicts with their own humanity, as we all do. The point is that it might be very messed up but there is always a light at the end of the tunnel, even if you can't really see it right now. I can't promise that it won't get dark again (it probably will, I mean the war of the ring in itself is pretty dark), but in the next couple of chapters, it will be back to a more light hearted mood. :) I do hope you continue to read this, but if at any time you feel like you are not comfortable with some of the topics I'm depicting, you can stop reading right away and no offense will be taken, I promise. You should be the best judge of character as to whether you want to read this or not. To help you, I will put up a warning at the beginning of the chapter if I think it's venturing into darker territory again. Thanks for your support, as always! :)


	18. Trust

**Trust**

Frodo stared out the window as the homeroom teacher, Ms. Cora, read a passage from a book about the history of the Shire. Chin in hands, he let his mind wander beyond the classroom window and into the blue skies he could see from his seat.

He thought back to the brief conversation he had had with Allie outside of the Bag End, the night before. He had seen a small glimpse of the old her in the way she had spoken to him. He was glad she had found a reason to talk again.

Cora saw Frodo daydreaming and walked among the aisles of tables to tap him on the head with her ruler.

"Frodo Baggins," she chastised.

"Y-yes, miss Cora," Frodo replied hastily.

"Please continue reading from where I left off."

Frodo's face fell as he quickly peeked down at the open book on his desk; he panicked when he had no idea where the teacher had stopped reading. A hobbit lass sitting by his side giggled, and then whispered: "Page twenty, first paragraph."

Frodo whispered a quick thank you before standing up awkwardly as he commenced to read.

After class, he saw with relief that neither Sancho nor Ted had shown up to school that day. They were probably both still recovering from the beat up. He couldn't help chuckling as he recalled how Allie had kicked Sancho in the balls. That must have hurt.

"Hey! Frodo!"

Frodo turned around, on his guard, but it was just that lass who had helped him out during class. Now that he had time to look at her carefully, she seemed familiar to him. She stopped in front of him and beamed shyly.

"Hello… what is your name again?" he asked, embarrassed at not remembering.

"Marigold Gamgee. I'm Sam's youngest sister."

"Oh, right! That's right! I remember you now. Well, you really saved me back there. You are a good student."

She blushed. "I'm the only one Papa is sending to school, so I can't disappoint him."

Frodo smiled. "Do your best then."

"Do you um… want to come over for some snacks? Mama always makes the best cookies," she said, shuffling from one foot to the other with her hands behind her back.

Frodo was surprised. "Certainly. It sounds good."

Her brown eyes lit up like little candles. "Really? Wonderful!"

Frodo stuck his hands in his pockets and followed her as she chatted animatedly. She was the first person who talked to him at school. Granted, she was Sam's sister and therefore not a total stranger, but still it was a good change. His day was so much better when Sancho, Ted and Lotho were not around.

They were walking by the lake when Marigold suddenly pointed at the Old Mill turning. "Woah, I've always wanted to see the Mill up close!"

Frodo wasn't so sure. The owner of the Mill was Sandyman, Ted's father. "Perhaps another day… wait, Marigold!"

Marigold was already running towards it. Frodo threw a circular glance around but the area seemed clear. As he approached the Mill, the sound of the water falling from the ladders of the wheel became stronger and stronger.

Marigold wanted to enter the Mill, but Frodo held her back. "I think Sandyman will be mad if we trespass."

Her eyes widened with alarm. "You are right! I hadn't thought of that!"

"If you want to see it that much, you can ask Sandyman to give you a formal tour one day."

She clapped her hands in front of her. "Yes, that sounds like a good idea! Will you come with me then?"

Frodo was still looking around sheepishly. "I'm not that interested in Mills. Come on, let's go now."

"Oh," she said, disappointed

As they were leaving, he suddenly thought he heard yelling coming from inside the Mill. He paused, but only the sound of cascading waters reached his ears. He looked back at the Mill standing above the river and suddenly had a bad feeling.

"Marigold, I just remembered that there's something I have to do. I'm terribly sorry, but could we postpone going to your house to another day?"

She pouted. "That is too bad."

Frodo raised a hand. "Yes, I'm sorry about that. I will bring over some of Bilbo's cupcakes with me next time to make up for it."

Marigold looked at his pleading eyes and resigned. "Fine. Next time for sure then!"

She smiled and waved goodbye, and Frodo waved back. When she was gone, Frodo reported his attention back to the Mill, his face dark. He just had to make sure.

He climbed onto the platform of the Mill and then quietly made his way to the front door. He quirked an eyebrow when he saw an iron padlock hanging from the door handles. Sandyman never locked the Mill. In fact, few hobbits even locked their doors.

He seized the massive padlock and tried pulling on it, but it was locked up solidly. Suddenly, there was banging against the door as a voice screamed from the inside: "Let me out! Let me out!"

"Allie!" Frodo recognized her voice.

"Please! Let me out!"

Even with the sound of the water drowning half of her voice, he could detect the panic in there. He tried pulling on the lock again, but it was massive and there was no hope of breaking it.

"Allie, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Let me out!" she sobbed. "Please. Not again! Let me out!"

Frodo looked around wildly, and then ran off the mill. In the surrounding area, he searched for loose rocks on the ground and finally uprooted the biggest one he could see. He rushed back to the Mill and pressed his ear against the door.

"Allie?"

He couldn't hear her anymore. Gritting his teeth, he started hitting the padlock with the rock, harder and harder, until he was panting.

He pressed his ear against the door again as a bead of sweat rolled down his brow.

He resumed hitting the lock and even managed to chip the rock, but the lock remained unscratched.

"Allie! Answer me!" he screamed again against the door.

He thought he could hear sobbing on the other side. Panicked, he wondered whether he should go look for Sandyman and ask him for the key. But then he changed his mind and started hammering away at the padlock again; Sandyman would never give him the key. The rock deviated and hit the door handle instead. The wood creaked.

Something clicked in Frodo's head; he then changed targets from the padlock to the door handles instead. He broke off one and started working on the other.

"Hold on! I'm almost there!" he panted against the door.

Three more strokes and the other handle got detached as well. The padlock fell to the ground heavily, still attached to both broken handles. Frodo hurriedly pulled the doors open, and almost immediately Allie's body fell forward at his feet. She must have been pressing herself against the doors on the other side.

In a second, Frodo was on his knees. "Allie! Are you all right? Look at me!"

There were tracks of tears on her cheeks and she was shaking violently as she hyperventilated.

"Let me out…" she simpered.

"It's all right. You are out now. You are out." He took her by the shoulders and hoisted her up. Her body felt feverish.

Allie's eyes met Frodo's, and suddenly she was clinging onto his shirt, sobbing uncontrollably.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt anywhere?" Frodo asked, worried and uncertain about why she was so afraid.

But Allie just buried her face in his shirt and sobbed harder. Frodo gently patted her head. The wheel of the Mill was turning slowly beside them, sometimes splashing water their way. Soon, drops of water hung to their hair and clothes.

"We should get out of here. What if Sandyman comes back? He's the one who locked you in, isn't he?"

Allie wiped her tears with a shaky hand and nodded.

Frodo pulled her to her feet and together they walked away from the Mill. They went to a remote area of the lake where there were no houses around, and Allie splashed water onto her face. She then took in some deep breaths and managed to calm down.

Frodo sat down beside her. "What happened in there?"

"I don't like to be locked in," she confessed darkly.

"Why did Sandyman lock you in? Does it have something to do with… Ted?"

"I was playing by the Mill. Sandyman saw me and told me to come. I knew he probably wanted to yell at me for beating up his son and the two others, so I went to him prepared. But he got angrier and angrier as he spoke and then he said he really had to punish me somehow, so he threw me inside the Mill."

She wiped hard at her eyes, and looked away, embarrassed. "I'm sorry that you had to see that. I just overreacted in there."

"You had a reason to be scared, didn't you?"

She licked at her lips and turned away.

"I had a bad experience being locked up before," she murmured.

Frodo nodded in understanding. He was sure she wouldn't say anything more, but he was wrong.

Playing with a blade of grass, she continued: "My father locked me up in a closet. I don't know for how long. There was no space to move, and there was no air to breathe. For a long, long time, I kept thinking the breath I was taking at that moment would be my last one, because it was getting so painful. But it was never the last. There was always a next one, and a next one. I almost wished there would be no more air left just to make everything stop..."

Her voice wavered.

She looked up and met Frodo's gaze. He didn't say anything, but she could see empathy in his eyes. It made her want to cry again.

"You shouldn't be so nice to me," she murmured.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because on that day…" she started as she looked him in the eye earnestly. "On that day when I came here to find you, it was my fault for not thinking about your parents. I was being selfish, and I knew it, but I kept pushing because… because I was desperate. But I was wrong, and it made you upset. After I left, I wanted to think that you hated me, because that was easier than facing you after having messed up."

"Allie, you know, I…"

"But when I was in that closet," she continued, "everything seemed so dark and bleak. I kept wondering why these horrible things had to happen to me. Why only me? I was tired of feeling guilty and of doing the right thing. And I just wanted to hate you instead. You and everybody else. It felt easier that way."

She looked away."Hating people is so much easier than trusting them and then getting nothing but betrayal in return."

"Is that why you set the fire?" he asked softly.

She felt tears pooling in her eyes. "I don't know why I set the fire. I was just… so angry. I wanted everything to go away, to burn. Those kids tried to take me back to that place and I hated them for it."

She hid her face in her hands. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this."

"Because you have to," he answered softly beside her. "Because when you do, you will feel better."

"You shouldn't be this nice to me," she repeated. "I hated you too and I thought horrible things about you. I stopped thinking of you as a friend. I questioned everything you ever did."

"Do you still hate me now?"

Slowly, she lowered her hands from her face. Tears were rolling down her cheeks again, and it seemed as though the ice in her grey pupils was melting.

"No. How can I? I mainly hate myself for telling you all this. I didn't want you to know this side of me. I didn't want anybody to know."

Frodo stared at the lake extending in front of them, its waters blue. "For the longest time," he started softly, "I couldn't come near any source of water. I would just freeze at the sight of it and my lungs would feel strange. I kept picturing my parents drowning… I kept thinking… what if I had told them not to go on the boat that day? Why did I let them go? I kept thinking that I could have prevented the accident from happening if I had just tried harder, and I felt so guilty that I had not done anything. But, after I came here to live with Bilbo and saw everyone else running home to their parents after school... everyone else but me... I felt like I didn't do anything to deserve this kind of loneliness."

Allie's eyes were wide as she stared as his profile.

"It felt as though my parents had abandoned me here, as though they had gone somewhere on their own and had just left me. And for a minute, just a minute, I allowed myself to hate them for that."

There was now a hard glint in Frodo's eyes. "I hated them for leaving me all alone. I even took the portraits I had of them and smashed them on the ground. I felt so angry towards them. I felt like I could never forgive them."

"Why are you telling me this?" she whispered.

Frodo took a deep calming breath. "Because you told me the thoughts you were the least proud of, so I figured I could do the same."

There was sadness in his eyes now. Allie suddenly felt as though her heart was being squeezed. She didn't understand why he was willing to expose his darkest moments to the light just to make her feel better about her own demons.

She inspired deeply and a determined look crossed her eyes. She clasped both hands on Frodo's shoulders, startling him slightly. "Then we just need to get rid of those angry thoughts."

"If only it were that easy…"

"I know that it is not, but there might be a way."

She looked up at the skies and saw rain clouds gathering. For the first time in forever, it seemed, her face split into a smile. Frodo stared a little at it in wonder for a second, before he saw her standing in front of him with her hand outstretched.

"Come on, I will show you."

She was still smiling and suddenly, to him she just looked like the same Allie he'd always known. Smiling back, he took her hand and let her pull him to his feet.

Clasping his hand in hers, she started running madly across the fields. Frodo first yelled at her to slow down, but soon he just quieted down and let his legs carry him as fast as they could. The wind was blowing in his face. His muscles and lungs were working at maximum capacity, but it felt good. It felt like he was leaving everything dark behind and just rushing madly forwards.

Allie turned back to smile at him, her blonde curls flying wildly around her face, jolting up and down with each stride she took. Frodo panted and laughed.

They jumped over boulders and over low fences, dashing across the flowery countryside. She raised her head and saw that the rain clouds had almost caught up with them.

She pointed to a tall hill in the distance and yelled back to Frodo: "We have to get there before the rain clouds do."

Frodo spotted the grey masses over their heads for the first time. "Wait, we should go home if it's going to rain!"

But Allie just pulled him forwards faster. He gave up worrying and just followed her, his strides mimicking hers.

The first fat raindrop crashed on his nose as they just finished trudging on top of the hill, exhausted, with their lungs burning for air. At the same time, however, they felt euphoric as though they were standing on top of the world.

Allie let herself fall on the grass, her chest rising and falling swiftly. Frodo let himself fall down beside her, with his face turned towards the grey skies.

Suddenly, without warning, the rain fell down hard all around them. Frodo closed his eyes and sat up, wiping away water off his face. Allie remained in her lied down position and laughed. Her laughter was clear and sincere, mingling with the rain thumping against the earth.

"The rain is the answer," she yelled at him over the downpour.

"To what?"

"To getting rid of your angry thoughts."

Frodo frowned in confusion. Allie rose, seized his hands, and started twirling them in a circle, faster and faster.

Frodo blinked rain out of his eyes as the background behind Allie's face was spinning so fast that the colors were merging together into a mass of green and grey. He laughed dizzily, and she reciprocated his laugh, squinting her eyes against the vortex of colors.

Suddenly, she let go of his hands and they both went flying on the green grass. Frodo stayed there, panting and laughing, and holding his head to stop the dizziness. He felt as though the ground was rocking underneath him.

When he recovered enough to stand up, he saw her standing a few feet away from him with her face turned towards the rainy skies. Slowly, she lifted both arms with palm facing upwards and slowly twirled on herself with eyes closed, letting the rain soak her completely.

Frodo stood under the thunderous and torrential rain, with his hands in his wet pockets, and watched as she did her dance. There was a certain grace to her movements, as though she was dancing to the melody of the rain hitting the earth, a melody that only she could hear.

"I used to do this a lot in Buckland", she was saying, "whenever I felt angry at my father, I would come to high place like this when it rained and I would let it wash away all the darkness. And now, I can feel it again… it's like black paint running down my legs."

Frodo watched her, taking in the way her hair was all wet and plastered against her head, at the way the raindrops rolled down her cheeks and neck, at the way her features were gentle and relaxed as she welcomed the rain. The sound of the downpour seemed to dim all around him as he watched her.

Without being fully conscious of it, he walked towards her until he was next to her. Slowly, he raised one hand and rested it on her wet cheek.

She opened her grey eyes and looked at him. "Frodo?"

He blinked and let his hand drop. There was a thundering sensation in his chest that echoed that of the rain hitting the grassy ground. He had no idea what he had been about to do, but for some reason his heart was racing.

Allie was looking at him with her head slightly cocked to the side. "What is it? Is it working for you? Are your dark thoughts still there?"

It took him a while before he could remember what she was alluding to. "Perhaps a little," he managed to answer.

He shook his head and the last remnants of that puzzling feeling faded. He smiled at her and said: "Do you know what I like to do when I'm in a high place like this?"

Clasping his hands around his mouth, he screamed with all his strength: "Eeeehh-oh!" His voice echoed down the hill but got quickly washed down with the rain. She laughed and tried it as well. "Eeeehhh-oh!"

They took turns screaming until Allie was out of breath. Frodo was still screaming away with all his might. She watched him with a smile on her lips. She didn't know whether it was because of the rain or because she had talked to Frodo earlier about her demons, but she felt lighter than she had felt in months.

The dark thoughts were still there, and she doubted they would ever go away completely, but at least now she felt as though she could deal with them.

As she watched Frodo hollering, a feeling unknown to her started blooming in her chest. It was warm and pleasant, and it made her feel at peace. It wasn't until they reached Bag End after running madly under the rain that she finally got a grasp of what that feeling was. As Frodo dropped a towel on her wet hair and she looked into the bathroom mirror and saw him drying his with another, she suddenly knew with certainty that the feeling in her chest was a feeling of safety.

She had sworn to herself after the events at Buckland that she would never fully trust and depend on someone else again, but she was coming to trust Frodo once more in spite of herself.

When she was little, she always had to rely on herself to get out of difficult situations and to handle her father; and she had never trusted anyone completely, not even Robin. She loved and would always love her brother, but she had never seen him as a protector.

With Frodo though, it was different somehow. Even though he spaced out a lot, could be clumsy, and got on her nerves sometimes, the truth remained that she still felt safe with him.

* * *

The hobbits going home from school all lowered their eyes and quickened their pace as they passed by the wild-looking hobbit girl sitting on the roof of one of the smials.

She spat out the blade of grass she was holding in between her teeth and jumped down from the roof upon seeing Frodo.

"Happy birthday," she proclaimed with a half-grin.

Frodo beamed upon halting at her level. "You remembered?"

"Bilbo told me this morning. How funny is it that you two share the same birthday?"

"I was surprised by it as well."

She wanted to say that it made Frodo's coming to Bag End seem fated, but she didn't.

"Do you have any plans? Are you going to do the lights on the water thing you told me about?"

"You remember that too?"

She stopped walking. "Frodo, I don't have amnesia."

He blushed. "Sorry! It's just that…"

"What, you thought that since I haven't spoken in such a long time, I must be cracked in the head?"

"No!"

He dropped his defensive posture when he saw her smirking. He sighed. It looked like the teasing had come back with the speaking.

"So? Is Bilbo planning a party?"

"Just a small dinner tonight. With some guests."

"Really? Who?"

They were in front of Bag End now, and she saw a cart stationed not far from the wooden gate.

"Oh, they must be here!" Frodo ran into the yard. Allie trailed slowly behind.

Sam's blonde hair popped up from between the bushes. "Be careful! Don't step on my newly planted flowers."

She looked down and saw that she'd been walking on the grass. She skipped back to where the path was. Sam eyed her carefully for a moment, and then sighed. "Do you ever say anything?"

She twisted her mouth a little but then entered the house without replying.

She heard voices in the common room and went in that direction. When she saw who the guests were, she went to hide behind Bilbo, who was standing the closest to her.

"Ah, there she is!" Paladin smiled down warmly at her, with Pippin standing beside him.

Allie eyed him suspiciously. She didn't trust adults who smiled too much; they always ended up hiding something. She always thought Paladin was a nice person, but then, she thought the same about Saradoc as well.

Bilbo gently pushed her forward. "Come on, Allie. Frodo told me you know them well."

"Of course!" Paladin clamoured. "You came over to our smial last summer, didn't you?"

Allie tried to hide behind Bilbo again. Paladin laughed. "I don't remember her being that shy last time."

The adults then went to get some tea, leaving Frodo, Allie and Pippin alone. Allie looked up at Pippin uncertainly. She hadn't seen him in a long time, and she was sure that Merry had told him everything that she had done in Buckland. Pippin was probably on Merry's side on all this, not that she blamed him.

But Pippin walked up to her and suddenly engulfed her in a big hug. "Allie… it's so good to see you again!"

Startled, she slowly hugged him back. "I know… Pippin."

Pippin ended the hug and beamed brightly at her. "I missed you so much! I'm really bummed about what happened to you, and to Frodo."

He went on to give a hug to Frodo as well.

"So now you are living together in this new place? I like the streams in here. There are so many of them!"

Pippin continued babbling on excitedly. Frodo and Allie exchanged an amused glance.

"Are Merry and Berilac coming as well?" Pippin suddenly asked.

Frodo slowly shook his head.

"What? How can they miss out on your birthday?" Pippin exclaimed indignantly. "I know it's a little far but they could have made the effort!"

"They have something going on," Frodo answered. "It is not a big deal. They sent cards."

Pippin was actually very upset at this. He was hoping for a reunion.

That night, they had a small party at Bag-End to celebrate Bilbo and Frodo's birthdays. There was a cake, Champaign for the adults, and juice for the kids. Pippin even agreed to sing a song. After dinner, Bilbo and Paladin went to smoke outside while Frodo made Pippin visit Bag-End, with Allie trailing behind.

Pippin had an excited outburst upon seeing each new room" "Woah, your uncle's studio has so many books! The kitchen looks nice! I like your room, Frodo!"

Allie's room was right across the hall from Frodo's. Pippin looked at them both. "You both are living together now! And your rooms are so close to one another's! That is fabulous! It's like a constant sleepover at each other's house!"

Allie looked at Pippin placidly, but Frodo's cheeks flushed pink at his words. Clearing his throat, he pushed a stunned Pippin away from the hall. They all proceeded outside just in time to see Paladin and Bilbo about to leave. Paladin told them he and Bilbo would be going to the Green Dragon for some congratulatory drinks. After ruffling Frodo's hair and wishing him a happy birthday again, he told the kids to be good and stay home.

After a few minutes, Sam came over to Bag-End to talk to Frodo, with his sister Marigold trailing shyly behind. As the three of them conversed, Pippin quickly pulled Allie back inside the house to get some time alone.

At first she didn't really know what to say, but Pippin kept bombarding her with questions about her new life in Hobbiton. He didn't mention once the events that had unfolded in Buckland, which contributed to make her feel more and more at ease. As she talked, she noticed the way his green eyes sparkled excitedly at her stories, and a wave of nostalgia washed through her. She wished nothing had changed, and Pippin, Merry and her could play in the fields of Buckland again, carefree like they once were.

Pippin must have been thinking the same thing, because he suddenly said: "I still remember that day that me and Merry sneaked into your smial and were scared out of our minds when we saw you holding that frying pan of yours."

Her lips raised in a small smile at that. "You thought I was a ghost."

He laughed. "Yes! It was foolish of us, wasn't it?"

"Not as foolish as some of the antics Merry used to pull on us."

Pippin's smile faded at that. "I'm very upset at Merry. I was going to forgive him if he showed up here today, but he didn't."

"Forgive him?"

Pippin crossed his arms on his chest moodily. "Yes. I went to see Merry on Yule last year and I forced him to tell me in detail what has happened with you. In his letters, Merry was always so vague in his answers, so when I went to Brandy Hall, I forced him to spill out the truth. I'm still so mad at him for believing, even for a second, that you murdered that Bree hobbit."

She shrugged. "That is because his father believed that, and he has never doubted his father. I don't bla…"

"Well I blame him!" Pippin retorted stubbornly. "His father doesn't even know you! But he did! We all did! We didn't spend so much time together for nothing!"

"No. Merry was right. They were all right about me in the end." Her eyes turned sad. "I set that fire. You know it, don't you?"

"That wasn't your fault!"

"Yes, it was. It was all me."

"No! Those kids at Bucklebury, I know what they did. It was their fault! They pushed you to do it."

She lowered her eyes. "Even if they did, I should have stopped at locking them in. But on the moment, that wasn't enough for me." Her eyes darkened. "I wanted them to suffer. I wanted them to feel the same despair I did. I…"

Pippin took her arm and shook her, hard. "No matter what you say, it was their fault. So you don't need to feel guilty over it anymore. Besides, no one died. They deserved the scare."

Allie looked into his ardent green eyes, full of determination, full of trust in her. A ball was forming in her throat.

"But Berilac was…"

"You didn't know he was inside! That was an accident!"

"Did you… say this to Merry too?"

"Yes!" Pippin's voice was firm. "But Merry is totally sticking up for Berilac now. I thought they were enemies, but apparently not. Merry blames you for hurting Berilac. I told him a million times that it was an accident, but that stonehead wouldn't listen."

"You fought with Merry? Because of me? But… but you two are the best of friends!"

Pippin huffed. "All the more reason for me to be disappointed in him. You are my friend too, Allie. And Merry was my friend. And yet he blames you for everything when he was the one who wronged you in the first place by not sticking up for you more in front of his father!"

Pippin was getting very worked up, and Allie just stopped trying to make him see that there was no way to escape the blame for setting the fire. Pippin, however, looked really determined to prove it otherwise to her, and she was thankful to him for that. But in the end, she knew better.

She sat down on the chair, staring at the last piece of cake left from dinner.

"I wish…" she whispered softly, "I wish that when those things were happening, I had a friend like you by my side. If you had been there, then perhaps I wouldn't have set that fire. Perhaps I wouldn't have turned into such a monster…"

Pippin's shoulders fell. "Don't say that. I wish I had been there too. I felt so bad that all those things were happening to you and I didn't even know of it. But Allie, from now on, I just want you to know that you can count on me. I'm your friend and I will never ever desert you. So if you ever need help for anything, you should come see me instead."

Allie felt herself tearing up. "Thank you, Pip. I don't know what I've done to deserve a friend like you, but I'm happy you are here."

Pippin gave her a toothy smile as his green eyes sparkled.

At that moment, Frodo, Sam and Marigold all came in. "Next year, your whole family should come for my birthday, Sam. The more the merrier!" Frodo was saying.

Marigold's eyes lit up. "That would be amazing!"

Sam addressed a warning glance at her sister, wishing she would dial down on the enthusiasm.

Frodo introduced Sam and Marigold to Pippin, and Pippin waved back. Marigold stared at Allie curiously, with a trace of fear in her eyes. Just like the other hobbits, she was intimidated by Allie's appearance.

"And Marigold," Frodo was saying, "you know Allie."

Allie sketched a smile in her direction, and Marigold relaxed a little.

The kids talked for a while, and then the old Gaffer was shouting out Sam and Marigold's names outside of Bag-End.

"It looks like it's time for us to go," Marigold muttered with disappointment.

Sam circled her arm with his, and guided her out, telling her to be obedient. "Goodnight, Mr. Frodo!"

"Goodnight Frodo, Pippin and Allie!" Marigold said.

They all waved as them brother and sister disappeared through the door. Pippin yawned. It was indeed getting quite late.

"Bilbo and your father might stay at the Green Dragon till sunrise, so we better go to bed first," Frodo said.

Pippin rubbed his eyes and nodded. Frodo then led him to the guest room.

"Say," Pippin said sleepily, "I heard your Uncle slayed a dragon. Is that true?"

"Apparently. He's told me bits and pieces, but never the whole story."

"Must be nice," Pippin let out, crawling into bed.

"Good night, Pip. And thank you for coming."

He was about to close the door when Pippin's voice reached him from the darkness. "I noticed Allie doesn't speak to the others. She just talks to you and me."

Frodo stopped and leaned against the doorframe. "Yes, and she only started talking to me recently. She's been through a tough time."

Pippin sat up on his bed. "Frodo, I think she really trusts you."

Frodo paused and then walked over to sit on the bed beside Pippin. "She told you that?"

Pippin shook his head. Frodo sighed. "I don't know, Pip. It's hard to tell what she's thinking sometimes. You and Merry spent more time with her than I ever did, though."

"That was before. Now, it's just you and her." Then he added: "she feels really guilty about that fire, you know?"

"I know."

"She will get over it though," Pippin declared stubbornly. "She's always been the fearless one in our group."

Frodo cast his eyes down as he thought of her tears when Sandyman had locked her up inside the Mill. "Not anymore," he murmured.

The lads stared at each other for a moment in the dark. Then Pippin yawned and lied back down. "Well, goodnight then, Frodo. And happy birthday!"

"Goodnight, Pip."

Frodo stood up and closed the door behind him.

As he walked back to the kitchen, he pondered over what Pippin had told him. He knew that Allie had set the fire to the barn at the time because she felt cornered and angry; it was still the wrong thing to do, but everyone made mistakes. He knew how guilty she must have felt afterward. Perhaps as much guilt as he felt the next day for smashing his parents' portraits in his bout of anger.

Allie was not in the kitchen anymore. He looked around for her for a while, but she didn't seem to be inside the house. He opened the front door to peer outside, and the chill evening air rushed inside, making him shiver. He unhooked a leather vest from one of the hooks and put it on.

He wandered out of the wooden gate and looked around. He then saw her dark silhouette delineated by the moonlight huddled on top of a large boulder further down the road.

"What are you doing here?" he asked when he reached her.

Without a word, she pointed at the full moon hanging there in the sky, looking so bright and big in the darkness. Frodo climbed on top of the boulder and sat cross-legged by her side.

The both stared at the moon for a while.

"What a pretty thing," Allie said, transfixed.

Frodo smiled. "That's because there is only one moon. And it is the same for everyone, no matter where they are in the world."

"So is the sun," she pointed out.

"But the moon is special. It's only full like this once every month."

They stared up at it for a little bit more. Suddenly, Allie pulled on the vest he was wearing. "Is that mine?"

Frodo looked down and realized that it was. In his hurry, he had just unhooked the closest one. In fact, this was the same vest that Allie had dropped on his head that day on the tree platform. Frodo fumbled sporadically with the buttons, trying to take the vest off in his embarrassment, but stopped when he heard her laughing beside him.

His shoulders hunching in defeat, he just leaned back on his hands as he let the night air blow over his skin.

"Why did you me leave me your vest that day?"

Allie stopped staring at the moon and drew little circles on the rock with her finger. "No reason." And then: "Because you looked down, I suppose. What happened?"

"Nothing."

Allie threw him a quizzical look but didn't press it further.

"When is your birthday?" Frodo suddenly asked.

She turned her head to face him, her eyes looking silver under the moonlight. "I don't have one."

"That is not possible! Everyone has one. When were you born?"

"I don't know."

She looked sad now, and Frodo suddenly wished he hadn't brought it up.

"Though my brother once told me that it was snowing a lot on the day I was born."

Frodo was suddenly struck by an idea as he hit his fist against his palm.

"The first snowfall!"

She was speechless at the excitement in his voice. Clearing his throat, Frodo formally said: "Since you don't have a birthday, I shall give you one. From now on, your birthday will be on the day of the first snowfall. How does that sound?"

She chuckled, and then laughed. Frodo's enthusiasm waned a little. "What is so funny?"

"It is nice, but it will never be a fixed date."

"That will make it all the more special, don't you think?"

Allie balanced her legs a little, hitting her heels against the rock, feeling excited now.

She would be looking forward to the first snow fall this year.

* * *

Eeeeks, I'm so sorry for the delay, guys! But I'm out of the country and it's been hard to find a computer with a good internet connection in here XD. Anyway, I appreciate all your reviews! I had a big smile on my face while reading them, so thank you for brightening my day! I hope you enjoyed this chapter too! I will try to get the next one posted in a week! =)

Till then, take care!


	19. Dresses

**Dresses**

Allie hated dresses.

Bilbo had tried many times to get her to put one on, but she had resisted for the longest time. When Bilbo finally got mad and threatened to halve her food ration, she finally obeyed half heartedly. Frodo still remembered the first time he'd seen Allie in a dress. He'd almost spat out his drink.

It was the most unsettling sight, that was for sure. He was so used to seeing her in a shirt, vest and pants, that seeing her in a yellow dress with a ribbon attached in a butterfly knot at the back almost seemed unnatural. Bilbo, however, was highly delighted and buzzed around her like a bee as he pulled at the dress here and there, exclaiming at how cute and pretty she looked.

Bilbo's joy was short lived though. When Allie returned that day for dinner, Bilbo looked in horror at the dirty mass of ripped tissue that the dress had become. The lace at the bottom was either gone or hanging in tatters. There was mud and grass and black smears all over it, and one of the sleeves was gone.

But Bilbo didn't give up. From time to time, he'd buy another dress for Allie and force her to wear it. However, to his chagrin, every time the dress got destroyed, no matter how severely he chastised her for it. Once, Allie even pinned the bottom of the dress together with a pin, turning the bottom half into a pair of shorts. After seeing that, Bilbo finally gave up with a sigh.

"What a shame!" he kept saying, "you could look like such an adorable lass! Why do you have to climb on trees and run around the countryside all day like a little monkey instead? What a shame!"

Allie just ate her meal in silence and didn't look up.

Bilbo also tried educating her, teaching her how to read and write, but Allie had no interest for such things. She always fell asleep during her lessons with Bilbo. And besides, since at that time she still wasn't speaking, it was hard for Bilbo to communicate with her, let alone teach her how to read. Bilbo's way of not giving up was to push the task onto Frodo instead, saying: "Frodo, my boy, you are such a good student at school! You always get good grades. Why don't you help out Allie? Be her tutor!"

Frodo protested for a long time, but Bilbo wouldn't let him off the hook. Finally, Frodo saw himself entrusted with that difficult job. Every Tuesday evening was tutoring time. When Allie actually showed up, which was infinitesimally rare, she'd always put her head on the desk first thing, and then would fall asleep almost immediately, leaving Frodo with no opportunity of placing a word.

However, now things were different. Today was a Tuesday, the first session of tutoring he would be holding ever since Allie started speaking to him again.

Today, he was hopeful about the outcome.

As he waited for her to show up, Frodo looked up from his algebra homework at the nasty weather outside; it was raining buckets.

When it rained like this, Frodo liked to just stay inside in a cozy corner and read a book, but he knew that Allie usually liked to go outside and get soaked. He used to think her insane for willingly subjecting herself to the downpour, but ever since that day when she had led him on top of the hill and he had seen her dancing in the rain, he understood her actions a little bit better. So if she was out there again enjoying the rain, she might not show up after all.

But just as he thought this, he heard the door creaking open.

Allie peeked inside, and when she saw Frodo sitting at the desk looking at her, she chewed the inside of her cheek and swiftly went to sit on the other side of the table, facing him. She then leaned a cheek against her palm and sighed as she stared out the window at the falling rain. Frodo closed his algebra book.

"Allie."

Her grey eyes settled on him.

"Reading is not that hard, you know? And besides, it could be fun. There are a lot of good stories in books."

"Is that why you always stare at those books of yours for forever?"

"Yes, but I'm not just staring. I'm reading them."

She quirked an eyebrow. "What kind of stories are they, in any case?"

"Friends going on adventures, heroes defeating villains, and so on." Frodo went to his shelf and picked out a book with a blue cover. "I just finished this one. It tells the story of a professor and his apprentice who follow instructions on a broken pottery shard and are led to the ruins of the Lost City, where they encounter the immortal ruler of the land."

Allie sat up a little straighter. "And what did the ruler do to them?"

"Well, she is a sorceress who can cast orders that are absolute. You must obey whatever she tells you to do, or else you would be pulled into the Underworld."

"The Underworld?"

"The world of the dead."

"So what kind of spells did she cast on them?"

"Well, she couldn't cast anything on them at first because they evaded her. But then the apprentice encountered a young girl who was in one of the prisons. And that girl was cursed to not be able to break physical contact with another person at any time. The other man who was in the prison with her was dead, and yet she still had to cling to his dead hand."

She scrunched up her nose. "That is disgusting!"

"But the apprentice saved her from the prison. After that, she began to travel with him and the professor in search of the meaning of the phrases on the pottery shard. And the funny thing is that she always had to sleep bound onto the apprentice or the professor's back to make sure she wouldn't violate the curse by accident in her sleep."

"And then? Did she ever get freed from the curse?"

"Well, not for awhile, but…" Frodo interrupted himself and gave her a lopsided smile. "If you are so interested in knowing the rest, you should probably read it yourself."

Allie pouted and went back to staring at the rain. Frodo sat in front of her and opened his algebra book again. After a while, Allie yawned and slid one of books on the table towards herself and opened it at a random page. Frowning, her eyes traced the little black letters filling up the page. She thought they looked like ants that had died in different positions.

She pushed the book under Frodo's field of vision as her finger randomly pointed down to a word. "How do you read that?"

Frodo smiled in victory. He had finally gotten her interested! "I think this is too complicated for you for now. How about we start with the alphabet instead?"

He rummaged through one of his drawers and then came up with a huge sheet of paper with all the letters of the alphabet printed on it.

Allie peered over it curiously. Frodo pointed at the first letter. "This is A."

"A?" she echoed.

"That's right! Now try writing it down. And remember it."

Allie chewed on her bottom lip as she took a pen and drew a big circle on a piece of paper. Then, she added a little tail to the side. Looking proud, she showed it to Frodo.

Frodo chuckled. "Yes, that is good. You don't need to make it that big though."

And so he taught her half the alphabet before saying that was enough for one day. Her homework consisted of remembering how to write and pronounce all the letters. Allie was nodding excitedly by the end, saying she'd remember them for sure.

As Frodo resumed his algebra homework, he saw from the corner of his eye Allie walking over to his bed and lying down on it. Then, she carefully started to copy the letters onto a piece of parchment, with her tongue poking out a little in concentration. He smiled. She certainly was eager to learn when she had gotten started.

When he was done with his homework, he went to sit on the floor with his elbows on the bed, curious to see her progress. Allie showed him her shaky drawings of the letters A through L.

"What do you think?" she asked excitedly.

"It needs more work."

She frowned. "Really? They look pretty good to me already."

Frodo drew some lines on the parchment. "Try to make them fit between those two lines there."

"That is quite small."

"It will make you practice your control. Also, you are holding the pen wrong. Don't hold it in a fist."

Frodo seized up the pen and showed her the right way to hold it, in between his fore and middle fingers, and holding it stable with his thumb. Allie tried it too. "That feels strange."

"You will get used to it."

She wet the pen in the ink and tried writing in between the lines, but her strokes kept slipping out of the boundaries. Not giving up, she tried again, and again. The rain was still thumping against the windowpane, creating a drowsy sound.

When she finally managed to fit A through L in between the two lines, while holding the pen the right way, she sat up excitedly, extending the notebook in front of her eyes to admire her work. She stuck a lock of hair behind her ear impatiently as she muttered their pronunciation quietly under her breath. She frowned a little at J.

"Frodo, jay or gee? I can never remember this one."

She peered down at Frodo still leaning against the side of the bed with both arms on the covers and his head resting on them.

"Fro-do."

She lied down on her stomach and peered at his face. "Frodo. Are you sleeping?"

His eyes remained close and his breathing was regular. She poked at his forehead a little with her pen, and he groaned but didn't wake up. She giggled and then wet her pen in the ink. Then, she shuffled close and wondered where she should start drawing on his face, like she did that other time on the carriage back to Buckland from Tuckborough. It was so long since she had played a prank of this sort on him. She was already anticipating his reaction when he'd wake up.

However, as she peered down into his sleeping face, her hand slowly stopped its motion. It was her first time seeing him sleeping from up close. He looked different. He even looked a little sad, and suddenly she wondered whether he was dreaming about his parents.

She put down the pen and rested her chin on her forearms with her face close to his. Sometimes, she dreamt of Robin too, of Robin being taken away by a dark shadow, and it would make her sad.

She blinked when she noticed how long Frodo's eyelashes were. They were black and casted gentle shadows on his cheeks. She felt like poking them but restrained herself.

After a while, she reached out a hand to poke at his hand instead, but he still didn't wake up. Yawning, she then rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She got off the bed and approached the book shelf. Spotting the blue book Frodo was holding earlier, she took it out of the shelf. Flipping through the pages, she was amazed at recognizing so many of the letters now. "So many E's! Oh, that's a D! And this is… gee? Jay?"

She glanced back at Frodo's huddled form and her eyes suddenly glided down to his back. So the girl in the story had to sleep bound onto the apprentice's back?

She was suddenly curious as to how that felt like.

Putting the book back on the shelf, she quietly went to kneel down behind Frodo.

Her hand hovered an instant above his back, before she hesitantly pressed her palm against it. It was warm, and she could feel the rising and falling of his chest under her hand.

She shuffled closer, but hesitated again. He would probably think she was strange for doing this. But then again, he was asleep, and she would only do it for a second.

So she passed her arms around his waist and leaned her upper body against his back, resting the side of her face between his shoulder blades. She could feel her own body rising and falling along with his. She smiled. It was warm and comfortable. No wonder that girl in the story did it.

Frodo's eyes opened slowly. And then he almost turned around in surprise.

He could feel her steady heartbeat against his back. He was amazed and shocked at what was happening. His heart was beating all over the place in his chest and there was just no way Allie wasn't hearing that. Random thoughts flashed through his mind as he wondered whether he should shift to tell her he was awake or whether he should keep silent.

Just as he was debating this, he felt her unlocking her arms and pushing away from him. Almost immediately, he felt the cold air left behind by her absence and wished in the back of his mind that she had stayed like that for a little longer. He heard her stretch, walk around the room a little, and then opening the door and leaving.

For a long time, he stayed in his position in the now deserted room, with his eyes wide open and the sound of his heart drumming in his ears.

He simply could not fathom what she had done that for.

* * *

Allie was walking along the banks of the river the locals named the Water. It ended in the Bywater Pool, a large lake with blue waters that shone like crystals under the sun. Even in this November day, the waters were clear as they reflected the clear chilly skies.

A gust of wind blasted through, rippling the surface of the lake. Allie tightened the coat around herself and was feeling for her gloves inside her pocket when she heard a cry.

Standing on the shore at the edge of the water, a hobbit lass with strawberry blonde curls was stretching her arms towards a hat that the wind had torn away from her head. It floated an instant in the air before landing in the lake.

"Oh no! My hat!"

She tried stepping into the lake, but the icy cold waters made her jump back. The wind was pushing the hat further and further away from shore. Allie picked up a dead branch off the ground and ran along the shores of the circular lake, trying to find a point from where she could reach the hat. At least it wasn't sinking yet.

The girl saw what she was trying to do and quickly sprinted in her direction.

Allie saw her chance when the hat floated towards a boulder erected in the lake. Quickly running in the shallow water stretching between the shore and that boulder, she finally reached the boulder and climbed on top of it. When the hat glided towards her, she extended her branch and caught the edge of it. Smiling, she pulled it towards her and then bent down to pick it up from the water.

The girl was waiting for her back on the shore, her hands clasped in front of her chest, and a wonderful smile lifting her pink cheeks.

Allie trudged back to shore, wringing the water out of the hat.

"Thank you so very much!" the girl chirped.

Allie smiled and returned the hat to her. She saw recognition settle in the girl's eyes as her glance traveled to her strap pants and her wild blonde hair. Allie waited for the usual expression of fear to set in, but the girl just blinked in awe and said: "Can you show me how to get on the roofs? I've seen you do it so many times! But… I don't dare!"

To say that Allie was surprised was an euphemism. She gawked at the girl, making sure she was serious, but the girl stared back with shiny hazel eyes and a cat-like grin. Allie, still dumbfounded, motioned at the girl to follow her.

Within minutes, they had reached the first smial. Allie climbed on top of it with practiced ease, taking support from the side of the hill. Then, she extended down a hand to the girl who was waiting at the bottom. She seized her hand enthusiastically and Allie pulled her up.

"Woah!" The girl exclaimed, shading her eyes with her hand to peer afar as she stood on top of the roof.

Allie sat down and peaked up amusedly at her. The girl sat down as well, her cheeks flushed with adrenaline. "My name is Rosie! Rosie Cotton!"

Allie wet her lips, and then decided to speak to her: "You can call me Allie."

Rosie clapped excitedly. "I've always wanted to talk to you!"

"You're not scared of me?"

"No! I always thought you looked so mysterious!" Her eyes took in Allie's pants. "I even stole my brother's trousers to wear them just like you do, but Papa got mad at me."

Allie laughed at this and eyed the brown dress Rosie was wearing, along with her white stockings that protected her legs from the cold. "I never liked dresses. Bilbo tried to make me wear them many times, but I think by now he's given up," she confessed.

"I like them sometimes, if they make me look pretty!"

Allie was pensive. "Does looking pretty serve a purpose?"

Rosie was surprised. "Of course! Lads like pretty girls!"

She frowned. "Really?"

"If you look pretty, they might come and talk to you."

Allie thought that maybe all the kids were scared of her because she wasn't pretty.

Rosie suddenly stared at her face intensely and then pulled on one strand of her wild curls. "Allie, you could look pretty too if you tried!"

Allie shook her head. "No, it's fine. It doesn't matter to me if I'm ugly."

"You're not ugly!" Rosie chided, shaking her head. "And what are you saying? All girls want to be pretty! I don't think you are the exception!" She suddenly stood up on the roof. "I have an idea! Come on!"

Rosie slid down from the top of the roof, and Allie followed her, wondering what she was up to. This was her first time talking to a girl of the Shire like this, and she didn't know what Rosie was thinking at all. She was pretty good at gauging the mentality of lads, but girls remained a mystery to her.

Rosie actually seized her hand and led her all the way to the farm in Bywater where she lived. Allie got a quick glimpse of her parents and brothers before Rosie pulled her into her room and shut the door behind her.

"I'm going to make you pretty today!" Rosie declared cheerfully.

Allie suddenly had a flash-back to those girls in Buckland dressing up their dolls and brushing their hair while gossiping. Was Rosie going to play house with her?

"Umm…" she started.

Rosie's hazel eyes glinted fiercely. "Sit!" she commanded, pointing to her dresser. Allie sat down obediently in front of the mirror.

Rosie ran her hands giddily through her blonde curls, but frowned when she felt the knots in there. "Oh boy! Your hair will need some serious work."

"Oh boy" was exactly what Allie wanted to say, but for completely different reasons.

* * *

Frodo surveyed the Lotho, Sancho and Ted trio out of the corner of his eye as he packed up his bag after school. Ever since that day when Allie and he had beaten them up, they had been pretty reserved and hadn't tried to approach him again. But Frodo had a bad feeling that the peace wouldn't last for long. Already they were sending dark glares his way again.

Seriously, if they had a problem with him being Bilbo's heir, they should go complain to Bilbo, not him. He never wanted Bilbo to appoint him his heir in the first place. He hadn't even had a say in it! But the more those three bothered him, the more he now wanted to hold on to his position of heir. He didn't want to give Bag-End to scum like Lotho.

He was walking across the courtyard when he saw Sancho coming in his direction. Frodo looked away and continued walking at a fast pace. When he arrived at Sancho's level, Sancho suddenly bumped into his shoulder and the impact made him drop his bag. His books and pens flew out, scattering on the ground.

Sancho shot him a triumphant glare and continued his way. Frodo sighed at his pettiness, and bent down to pick up his stuff. He heard footsteps coming in his direction and looked up in time to see Marigold rushing to his side.

"Frodo, are you all right?" And then she looked over the shoulder and yelled: "I saw what that scumbag did to you!"

Sancho looked back at the sound of her voice and then quickly ran off. Frodo smiled at her. "It's all right. No harm done."

"It's not the first time though! I noticed that they always seem to bother you. Shouldn't you tell miss Cora?"

"I don't think it's going to get better even if I get her involved."

"Still, you should tell your uncle at least so that he can go see those kids' parents."

Frodo finished putting away his last book and stood up to dust off his pants. He knew that if Bilbo went to see their parents about this, the latter would tell their kids "good job" instead of chastising them, especially Sandyman. Besides, this was his problem, not Bilbo's.

"Don't worry, Marigold. I will handle it."

Marigold frowned, but then let it go. She had more important matters in mind. "Say, Frodo, the pumpkin season starts tonight! There's going to be a party at the Green Dragon! Do you want to come?"

Frodo had almost forgotten. Last year he hadn't been in the mood to go, but perhaps he should check it out this year. He'd heard so much about the Green Dragon from his classmates, and also from Bilbo, but he'd never been inside yet.

"It sounds like a good idea," he answered.

Marigold's eyes shone brightly with excitement. "Yes! I knew you'd say this! Meet me in front of the Green Dragon at nightfall then!"

She waved goodbye and then ran off giddily. Frodo waved back.

He then continued on his way home, but when he reached Bag-End, he stopped and hesitated a second or two at the doorstep. Finally, he pushed the door open quietly, made sure the somber tunnels were empty, before quickly sneaking in. Tip toeing along the corridors, he passed by Bilbo's studio and saw Bilbo hunched over the table writing something. So far so good.

He finally made it to his bedroom and quickly shut the door behind him. Only then did he relax. Sighing, he threw his school bag on his desk and let himself fall on his bed. He knew he was acting ridiculous, but ever since the "incident with Allie" like he thought of it in his head now, he didn't know how to act in front of her anymore. Should he let her know that he had been awake at that time? Should he ask her why on earth she had done that for? The answer was yes, but every time he saw her, the words wouldn't come out.

He buried his face in his pillow and kicked at the covers.

Allie was making it hard for him by acting like nothing's happened. Sometimes he even wondered if he hadn't dreamed the whole thing. But why would he dream about that in the first place? It was consternating.

When the sun descended behind the hills, he left Bag End and set out in direction of the Green Dragon to meet up with Marigold. Walking with his hands in his pockets, he wondered where Allie had been all day. Probably off exploring the surrounding areas again. She might know the countryside better than he did by now, and he had been living here longer.

Finally, he reached the Green Dragon. The doors opened and a hubbub of voices drifted out, accompanied by the sound of music and laughter.

He spotted Marigold standing by the side of the door. She spotted him as well, and after running up to him, she eagerly pulled him by the arm. "Quick, they are already cutting the pumpkins!"

Frodo let himself be dragged in, eyes opened wide as he took in the airs of festivity inside the inn. Everywhere, people were rolling huge orange pumpkins around. Some hobbits were dancing on the tables, and one was playing the mandolin beside the dancers.

Marigold spotted a free table and led them there. Soon, Frodo found himself bobbing his head to the music and tapping his feet to the rhythm of the drums. Marigold was a few feet away; she had pushed herself to the first line of a group of adults watching the innkeeper cleave a pumpkin in half with a giant kitchen knife, cheering every time pumpkin juice splashed out.

Frodo smiled. He hadn't been to a party like this in so long! Maybe he could have some fun tonight.

Unbeknownst to him, Allie and Rosie also came in front of the entrance to the Green Dragon.

Allie planted her feet in the dirt. "Wait a second Rosie, you didn't tell me we were coming here."

Rosie giggled and pulled again at her arm. "My brother works here! And I help him sometimes. Besides, it's the pumpkin season so it will be extra busy tonight."

Allie stepped back. "All right, but at least let me get changed! How can I go in looking like this?"

Rosie put her hands on her hips. "Allie, how many times have I told you? You look _good_! I can't believe you've been wasting away all this time!"

Allie rolled her eyes. What was she talking about, wasting away? Is this what it meant to be friends with a girl from around here?

"But I look like a doll!"

"Exactly!"

"Is that supposed to be a good thing?"

"You look very pretty! I'm sure a lot of lads will tell you so today."

Allie crossed her arms indignantly. "Why should I need their approval?"

Rosie finally grew impatient. "For the sake of all that is good!" She locked arms with Allie, opened the door to the sound of the mandolin playing, and dragged them both in.

Allie's jaw dropped open at the buzzing activity surrounding her. This was the most crowded place she had been to in her life. Even when it was busiest at the Prancing Pony, it wasn't as lively as this. Rosie started clapping along and laughed exuberantly.

"Come! Let's look for my brother!"

Allie held onto a pan of Rosie's dress as they made their way among the crowd toward the bar. Suddenly, a line of dancing hobbits passed in between them, and she found herself separated from Rosie.

"Rosie!" she screamed on top of the music.

But her friend was now nowhere to be seen. Allie looked around uncomfortably, a hand to her chest. She had the feeling that everyone was looking at her and laughing at her attire. Her eyes started searching for the exit.

Suddenly, she saw Frodo (of all people!) sitting at the table near a giant pumpkin that one hobbit was splitting. Panic rushed through her. What was Frodo doing here? If he saw her like this, she'd never hear the end of it! He'd make fun of her to the end of time, she just knew it!

She picked up the edges of her dress and started running around manically, seeking something she could hide behind. She just ended up running into another hobbit, however, making him spill his beer on his shirt.

The hobbit saw her and his eyes scanned her from head to toe. "Be careful there, sweetheart."

The bard started playing another song on his mandolin. The hobbit put down his beer on a nearby table and bowed as he presented a hand to her. "Shall you grant me one dance, my lady?"

Allie stared at him blankly, lifted the edges of her dress again and ran away.

A few surprised hobbits quickly jumped out of her way as she dashed through them. One of them tripped on the leg of a chair and fell on his behind. The hobbits surrounding him all started laughing.

Allie raised her eyes in time to see Frodo looking in her direction, probably alerted by the commotion. She skidded to a halt, desperately looking around for a hiding place. But it was too late. Frodo had spotted her.

She saw him do a double-take upon seeing her, and let out a curse under her breath.

She turned around to run away again and caught her reflection on a crystal bowl placed on top of the bar.

Her blonde hair was finally tamed in long braids resting on her shoulders. She was wearing a fluffy turquoise dress that made her eyes seem almost blue.

"Allie?" she heard Frodo call out.

Allie quickly twirled around and disappeared among the crowd. Without thinking, Frodo bolted after her. At first, he lost her in the sea of hobbits, but then her turquoise dress was floating in front of him. He quickened the pace, pushed past a group of hobbits dancing, and finally managed to grab onto her.

"Wait!"

Allie stopped but refused to face him. Frodo, without letting go of her arm, quickly circled around her to stare down into her face, but when he did that, she tried turning away from him again. Finally, Frodo placed both hands on her shoulders and shook her a little. "Allie! It really is you! Why are you running away?"

She lifted her face towards him, her cheeks crimson red. Her grey-blue eyes were shining with apprehension and yet defiance.

"Go ahead!" Allie was saying in a pouty voice. "Laugh all you want!"

Frodo blinked confusedly. "Why would I laugh?"

Allie stepped up and motioned at herself. "I know I look ridiculous!"

"What are you saying? You look… !" he paused and then resumed: "You don't look ridiculous."

"Lying is unlike you, Frodo. Why are you not being blunt?"

"Because I'm telling the truth?" He sighed. "Look, Allie, you look just fine. This is the reason why Bilbo wanted to make you wear dresses. You look… normal, for a change."

At this, she lowered her defences a little. Frodo didn't look like he was going to burst out laughing in her face anytime soon. Maybe Rosie was right; maybe she didn't look so bad after all.

"Why are you here in a dress though? Did Bilbo force you to wear one again?" Frodo asked with one arched eyebrow.

"It's a long story…"

"Allie! There you are!" Rosie exclaimed as she emerged from the crowd and caught on to Allie's arm. "I looked for you everywhere!"

Her eyes landed on Frodo and widened. Then, she forcefully nudged Allie in the ribs; Allie seized her hand from under her arm to stop the nudging. "Frodo, this is Rosie. Rosie, Frodo."

Frodo nodded his greetings and Rosie curtsied a little. However, soon she was back to nudging Allie like mad. Allie quickly pulled her to the side.

"What?" she whispered impatiently.

"Good job!" Rosie whispered back excitedly, giving her a thumbs up.

She frowned. "For what?"

"Oh silly, I told you lads were going to come talk to you when you look like this."

"Yes… but that is only Frodo over there. He talks to me every day."

Seeing Rosie's incomprehension, she added: "We live in the same house."

Rosie's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my! Really? And… you are not related to him?"

"No."

Rosie just stared at her in wonder. "No way! You are so lucky! He is cute!"

Allie was clearly taken aback. She'd never thought about that. "I suppose so?"

"You suppose so?" Rosie exclaimed. Then she sighed at her new friend's blank expression.

Allie also knew she wasn't good at this. She just had trouble understanding what Rosie was getting at with this conversation. She saw Frodo looking in their direction and shrugged as she pulled Rosie along, forcing her to walk back to where Frodo was.

"What's wrong?" Frodo asked when they came back.

Allie threw Rosie a sidelong glance and then said: "Well, Rosie just told me that you are cute."

Rosie stared at her in horror. Allie frowned at her. Was she not supposed to say that? Frodo looked at Rosie, and Rosie blushed red like a tomato and went to hide behind Allie, while whispering "you are so stupid!" to her over and over again. Frodo scratched his neck shyly, not knowing what to say.

Rosie's head then peeked up from above Allie's shoulder as she chirped: "But Allie agrees with me. She thinks you are cute too."

Frodo's head whipped towards Allie and she read something in his blue eyes that suddenly made her very uncomfortable. "Rosie!" she screamed at her friend. "I did not say that!"

Rosie, however, had her eyes riveted to Frodo, not missing the way in which he had just looked at Allie. A knowing look suddenly filled her eyes. "Oh my," she murmured deviously.

Allie was still babbling beside her: "I just said I suppose so because I had never thought of it! But you know what? Now that I think about it, there is nothing cute about him! He's such a rascal!"

"A rascal?" Frodo exclaimed defensively.

Allie fell back with her arms crossed, satisfied. Frodo glared.

Rosie watched them fight, and giggled. Allie saw the expression on her face and felt herself getting mad again.

"Rosie! You say ridiculous things!"

"But I haven't said anything!"

"Whatever! I'm going home!" Allie said moodily and stomped off towards the exit.

Rosie literally burst out laughing. She then caught Frodo looking at her, and she quickly sauntered to his side. She pointed a finger to his chest and exclaimed haughtily: "You liked it when I said that she found you cute!"

Frodo backed away from her. "Allie would never say such a thing. Besides, even if she did, she is only a brat and I do not care!" he answered curtly, and then left as fast as he could.

Rosie watched him leave, shaking her head.

Over the following days, it was war between Frodo and Allie again, just like back in the days when they were in Buckland. Bilbo could only watch in distress as they wrecked havoc inside Bag-End. At first it was just pillow fights or cushion fights that they tried to keep innocuous and hidden from Bilbo, but quickly the situation spiralled into chaos and now they didn't even hesitate before throwing food at each other over the table during dinner time.

"Kids! Do not waste food like this," Bilbo tried saying before getting hit in the face with a carrot.

War was just fine with Frodo. He finally felt like he could be himself again with her this way. He could speak to her just fine when they fought verbally. And besides, she was probably out of her mind and that was why she had done that random leaning on his back thing back there. There was no meaning to it, he was sure of it now. He should just remember the incident as another one of the annoying things that Allie did.

And also, he didn't believe for an instant what Allie's friend had said back in the Green Dragon. That was just weird all around. Yes, war was good. War kept his mind occupied.

By one cloudy afternoon of November, Allie was huddling behind one of the tall chairs of the salon, and Frodo was huddling behind the other. She was holding an umbrella in her hands, and he was holding a flour stick.

"You hid my homework!" Frodo growled.

"I did not!"

"Give it back!"

"You just haven't done it! Why do you blame your unproductiveness on me?"

"I did it two hours ago and put it inside my drawer, and now it's gone!"

"Maybe the dog ate it."

"What dog? Stop lying! Dogs don't eat paper!"

"Yes, they do!"

Frodo's grip tightened on his stick. "I will beat you up if you don't tell me!"

Allie brandished her umbrella. "Are you underestimating me? Don't forget that I beat up those three idiots – she said, alluding to Lotho, Sancho and Ted – so bring it on if you think you can win!"

Allie suddenly bolted from behind her couch with a cry of war, her umbrella in front of her. Frodo warded off the strike and blocked the next one with his stick. They struggled for an instant and then broke apart again.

"Is this the best you've got?" Frodo mocked.

Allie bolted towards him again, and umbrella met stick again. Bilbo chose this moment to walk into the salon. "No! Not my umbrella!" His eyes widened in panic as he saw his favorite umbrella being used as weapon. He rushed in between the two kids and pulled it out of her hands.

Panicked, he quickly tried opening it to see if it still worked. The umbrella opened up just fine, and Bilbo let out a sigh of relief.

He looked down to see Frodo and Allie glaring at each other from each side of him. "Really, what am I going to do with you kids? And you used to get along just fine, before!"

"Frodo is a rascal!" Allie growled out.

"Allie is a brat!" Frodo exclaimed back.

They tried throwing themselves against each other again, but Bilbo kept them apart by the collar of their shirts. "All right kids, calm down. I cannot bear to see any more of my house destroyed."

"She started it, uncle!" Frodo said. "She stole my homework."

"No I didn't!" She spoke up defensively.

Bilbo frowned and pulled them along to the couches in front of the fireplace and made them sit down in front of the hearth.

"How about this?" Bilbo proposed. "If you promise a truce, I will tell you the story of how I defeated the dragon."

Frodo and Allie stopped staring at each other to stare at Bilbo instead.

"The whole story?" Frodo asked.

"The whole story!"

Bilbo had never told him the whole story before; he always ended it at the good part, just before the end. No matter how many times Frodo begged, he'd always say he'd finish it the next time. Only, next time, he'd start from the beginning again, and then would stop at exactly the same spot as before.

"All right. It is a deal," Frodo replied excitedly.

Allie huffed. "Not a deal!"

Bilbo stared at her pensively. "How about this then? You get to hear half of the story first, and after that, if you want to hear more, you will have to agree to stop fighting with Frodo first."

Allie scrunched up her nose as she thought about it. Frodo was already seated in front of Bilbo, excited to hear the story. Finally, Allie complied silently and also sat down some distance away.

Bilbo looked at them both and laced his fingers together in satisfaction. Taking in a deep breath, he started:

"I must have you know that I wasn't always considered the odd one out here in Hobbiton. Many, many years ago, I was going about minding my own business just like all the other hobbits of the neighbourhood, when I spotted a stranger down the road. He was wearing a pointy grey hat and long grey robes, and even though I'd never seen a Wizard before in my life, I knew at that moment, without the shadow of a doubt, that the man standing in front of me was a Wizard."

Frodo scooted closer, his big blue eyes shining in anticipation. Even though he'd heard this part plenty of times before, it was still as exciting as the first time.

"All I knew about Wizards back then was from the stories told of the days of old, when Gandalf the Grey would appear with his famous fireworks. So, when I saw the Wizard, I greeted him "good morning" just like I would any other hobbit. However, the Wizard replied to me enigmatically, saying: "To bid one good morning could mean many things." I was caught off guard by this statement, and also slightly irritated. After a conversation that seemed to lead nowhere, Gandalf finally asked me the most astounding question of all. He asked me if I was ready to go on a big adventure. Of course, I didn't know what he meant by that, and I was very ill at ease by then, so I told him we should talk about it more the next day over tea, and then I hurried back inside my house. I could hear his laughter chasing after me all the way till I finally closed the door on him."

Allie now scooted closer too.

"The next day, imagine my surprise when the person who knocked on my door was not Gandalf at all. No, it was a Dwarf, and his name was Dwalin. I let him in and there came another knock on the door. I opened it, expecting it to be Gandalf this time, but it was just… another Dwarf! And then came two others. And then five others! And they were all very demanding, mind me. They were asking for tea, coffee and ale as though my house was an inn. My consternation with them was growing, and my mood definitely did not improve when finally Gandalf showed up. Because he had brought even more Dwarves with him!"

Allie laughed. "That is silly."

"That was what I thought as well. I kept thinking to myself that Gandalf and the party of Dwarves would scream "Surprise! We got you!" any second. Only they never did. Instead, the Dwarf Thorin told me of his grandfather's rule in the mountains where Dwarves have tunnelled to build houses, and have crafted things out of gold and accumulated a great deal of treasure. But treasure attracts dragons, and one such dragon named Smaug pillaged their kingdom, killing the Dwarves and accaparating the treasure. Gandalf offered me to go on a journey with the Dwarves to slay the dragon and reclaim their land, and in exchange I could obtain part of the treasure."

And so Bilbo continued his story till the point where he and the company of Dwarves reached the village under the Lonely Mountain after escaping from the Elves of Mirkwood. Upon reaching that point, he looked at Allie and Frodo's expectant faces, and asked the young girl: "Well? Would you like to hear more?"

Allie blinked as though waking up from a dream. "Yes," she whispered. "Of course! This is the best story I've heard in my life!"

"No more fighting with Frodo then? You two will get along like you did before?"

Allie nodded. "I promise."

Frodo and she looked at each other for a second, and smiled tentatively at each other.

"Good!" Bilbo exclaimed in relief as he sat back on his couch, stretching his sore muscles. "Then, I will tell you the other half tomorrow!"

The two kids jumped on their feet. "Uncle!" Frodo protested accusingly. "You promised you'd finish the story this time."

Bilbo stood up and waved Frodo's concerns away. "Yes, yes. Of course I will finish the story. But tomorrow. Oh dear, look at the time. It's getting quite late. Besides, you will enjoy the rest of the story more if we take a break right now," he winked at them, at then left the salon hastily.

Frodo and Allie watched him go with the same scowl on their faces.

"He got us good!" Allie exclaimed.

"I know!"

"He quit with the story-telling as soon as he got what he wanted from us. I should have delayed the truce!"

Frodo huffed when he realized that as well.

"Your Uncle is an old snake!"

"Yes, you are right. But you still like him," Frodo looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

She shrugged. "Only when he's not being tricky like this."

Frodo stretched and then yawned. "Well, I better go write my homework for tomorrow. Again."

"Oh, that's right. Wait here!" Allie ran to her bedroom, and then back again with a few sheets of paper in her hands. "Here, your homework."

Frodo took it. "I'm in shock! Why are you giving it back?"

She scowled half-heartedly. "Well, we did promise your uncle to call it a truce."

"Quite decent of you to keep your promise!"

He then looked out of the window and saw the first few snowflakes drifting down from the night sky. "It's snowing…"

His eyes suddenly widened in recollection. Without a word, he seized Allie's wrist and pulled her to her bedroom urgently.

"Stay in here, and don't come out till I say so!" he commanded seriously.

She was flabbergasted. "What?"

"Just… do as I say."

He then closed the door behind him as he left the room. Allie stared at the door for a moment, before going to sit on her bed. Outside, the snowflakes were drifting down gently, like feathers.

The first snowfall, she thought. And then she quickly stood up and ran to the window, peering outside.

"The first snowfall…" she repeated under her breath.

Frodo had said her birthday would now be on the day of the first snowfall, but… this couldn't be why he was telling her to stay in her room, right? She doubted he even remembered saying that. Back then, he had probably meant it as a joke.

But still, she sat and waited with a pounding heart, feeling excitement gaining her over.

Half an hour later, Frodo came back into her bedroom, panting and with snowflakes still caught in his hair.

"What are you up to?" she asked as she stood up.

A mischievious light was dancing in his eyes. "Come!"

"Is this about my b…wait!"

He dragged her out by the wrist, only pausing at the door to give her the time to slip on the red poncho that Bilbo had given her to wear for the upcoming winter.

And then, they were out of the house, running in the snow. It was dark, and she could barely see, but Frodo's hand on her wrist guided her.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"You will see," came his voice ahead of her.

They ran in the dark until they reached the lake. Allie stopped and stared at Frodo in surprise. Frodo looked around and then beckoned to her to approach the water. A light was flickering near the edge of the lake, floating on its still surface.

It was a candle erected on a wooden plate. A few meters ahead, she spotted another one floating near the shore. And then another still further ahead. In awe, she followed the trail of lights, and finally reached an area of the lake which curved a little into the land. Several lights were crowded there; they lighted up the surface of the water while their reflections lighted up the inside of the lake in a double panorama.

Allie could not detach her eyes from the marvellous sight.

"You did all this? For me?"

He nodded proudly. "Happy birthday, Allie."

The lights from the candles casted a warm glow on his face. Some snowflakes drifted down onto his hair, contrasting with the darkness of his curls. She caught herself thinking that Rosie was right. As he stood there in front of her, looking shy and yet expectant, he looked… different. Perhaps even cute.

She smiled softly. "Thank you, Frodo."

The lights from the candles were flickering inside her grey eyes as she looked back at the waters. "This is the best birthday ever! I cannot believe you took the time to do this."

Frodo walked to stand beside her. "Only because you returned my homework, or else I would have spent this time writing it again."

She turned towards him, hesitated a second, and then wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

"You are a rascal," she murmured against him. "But a good rascal, I will give you that."

Frodo smiled and returned the hug by putting his hands on her shoulders. "Coming from a brat like you, I will take it as a compliment."

She broke away from him, eyes shining gently, and then went to sit by the side of the lake.

Frodo watched her for a second and then said: "Why did you do that the other day?"

"Do what?" she answered absent mindedly.

Frodo sat beside her and wet his lips. "When I was sleeping... well, after you did that, I woke up, but you did it when I was sleeping."

Allie turned to look at him and he scratched his chin awkwardly.

"I still don't know what you're talking about."

Frodo was chewing on his bottom lip impatiently. "You hugged me," he finally blurted out, and then looked away as fast as he could.

Comprehension suddenly dawned in her eyes as she recoiled in embarrassment.

"That was... ! Because of the book! The story you told me about the girl with the curse who had to sleep on the other guy's back! I just... I wanted to know how it felt like!"

Her cheeks turned crimson when Frodo suddenly burst out laughing.

"So that was why you did it? That is all? And I was thinking all sorts of... You are so funny!"

She kept a stubborn silence and crossed her arms, eyes strained on the candles floating on the water.

The snowflakes drifting about were becoming thicker now. Some of the candles were already put out, but most were still alight.

"Come on, let's go back. It's snowing too much now," Frodo said when he was done laughing.

"I want to look at them a little longer," she replied moodily.

Frodo tapped the snow off his coat. "If you like it so much, I will do it again next year."

At this, she abandoned her stiff posture and sprang up on her feet. "Really?"

"Yes, really. If you are a good girl."

She nodded. "I will be good to you!"

Frodo pointed a finger toward her. "All year long, all right? No more taking my homework and stealing my strawberries with cream!"

At this, she huffed. "How can a lad be so petty about food?"

Frodo crossed his arms. "Those are my conditions. Otherwise, no lights!"

Allie started walking away. "Very well. I will just light them myself then."

Frodo ran after her. "But you just said you were going to be good to me!"

"Yes, I know, but I still want my share of strawberries. How about I help you with your homework instead?"

"Only if you want me to get a zero on it."

"What are you saying? I'm pretty good at counting numbers. If you have an apple and eat it, you end up with zero apples."

"How about if you have ten apples and eat two?"

Allie paused for a second. "Then you are left with… a few?"

They continued their leisurely banter back and forth, their voices mingling with the falling snow as they walked back to Bag End, a red silhouette and a black one striding side by side.

* * *

Omg, I tried for the longest time to open but it just wouldn't work. Maybe it's my crappy internet connection. Anywayz, the point is that this chapter was supposed to be up much sooner.

**FreakyFantasy:** since I didn't have time to reply to your review last time, I'll reply to both of them right now. I don't think there's a lot of cussing in my story... unless I'm missing something, but it seems to me I haven't dropped the F bomb once haha. And yeah, Sam is finally popping up, I'm having fun writing him :)  
Lmaoo, yeah I can't wait to get to the good part of my story. It's gonna get serious in the next chapter, finally. I'm excited to write about that when I finally get back home from vacation. As for whether the story will look like the book or the movies, well I guess a bit of both, but mainly the movies. I mean, the movies do a great job highlighting the main events of the war of the Ring, so there's no reason not to stick to that. However, there will be some major changes in HOW things happen, that's all I can say. And since Strider is one of my favorite characters, I will be sure to do him justice :p  
I'm glad you pointed out that Frodo is not much of a fighter. That's exactly what I wanted to actually highlight by making him do something he wouldn't usually do. That's why Lotho and his friends always call him a "loser", because even if I didn't write it out explicitly, it means that they have provoked him in the past and he has never done anything about it.  
haha, I'm glad you enjoyed that chapter at Pippin's house. I had a lot of fun writing it. But ultimately this fic veers towards the dark side, and not so much the cute and fluffy side, I'm afraid. There are chapters like this one though that will be very light hearted, so that being said, I hope this one was to your liking. So as usual, thanks so much for your kind words and support :D

**May:** Awww thanks! :) I hope you will keep reading and reviewing! Take care!

**Synchronic333:** lool, really? I don't even know if you are going to see this reply, but if you do, can you tell me who sang that Wild Child song you were listening to? Because the title for my story is inspired by Enya's song Wild Child.


	20. The Recruitment

**The Recruitment**

_Spring_

"Hey, Frodo! Look up!"

Frodo looked up only to be blinded by the fall of a pile of cold wet snow from the roof of the farm he was standing under. He backed away and spat some of it out of his mouth. He cracked his eyes open to make out Allie doubling over in laughter in front of him, as Marigold rushed past her to his side, dusting off snow from his clothes worriedly.

"Frodo, are you all right? What did you do that for?" she finished accusingly in Allie's direction.

Allie wiped the tears off the corner of her eyes and pointed a shaky direction in Frodo's direction. "He always falls for this one! It is hilarious!"

Frodo stepped over Marigold to reach Allie. "You little…!"

Allie stuck out her tongue and then ran away. Frodo chased after her in circles in the snow, before throwing himself forward and sending them both rolling on the ground. Allie let out a yelp when she found herself pinned on the ground with Frodo on top of her.

Frodo seized a handful of snow and threw it on her face. Allie shrieked and squirmed a little underneath him, but he had her solidly pinned.

"Do it again, and I will not let you off so easily next time!"

Allie cracked a single eye open in mockery. "It is your fault for always falling for it."

Frodo groaned. Allie seized a handful of snow and threw it at his face during his moment of inattention. Frodo looked away in time to avoid it landing directly on him, but it gave Allie the opening to push him off her.

Frodo looked at her with a glint in his eye. "All right lass, now you are just asking for it."

They stared at each other for a second more before they both started busying themselves making snowballs with their hands that they subsequently bombarded the other with.

Sam and Rosie were watching the whole scene from the side, shaking their heads.

"They are at it again," Sam stated disapprovingly.

Rosie giggled. "I have never seen two hobbits fight quite so much."

"Mr. Frodo wasn't like this before she came along."

Rosie threw him a glance. "I saw him once or twice when Bilbo just brought him here, and he always looked so melancholic. I very much prefer this version of him."

Sam looked at her, surprised. "I suppose so. You are right."

"I know. I'm always right," Rosie winked at him before sauntering away to join Marigold, who was now trying to put an end to the snow battle between Frodo and Allie.

Sam smiled and followed her.

After playing, they headed towards the Green Dragon. Rosie's brother guided them towards a good table and then brought over the menu.

"Is it on the house today?" Rosie asked, and her brother put a finger to his lips conspiratorially.

Allie took up a menu eagerly and peered down at the first page.

"To..ma..to… so..soap!"

"Soup!" Frodo corrected with a chuckle, peering at her menu.

Allie bit her lip and moved on to the second line. "I know this one! Mushroom soup!"

"How are your reading lessons going?" Rosie asked.

Allie shrugged and looked at Frodo.

Frodo let out a sigh. "Do you need to ask that when she still confuses "soup" with "soap"?"

The others chuckled, and Allie hid her face behind her menu in embarrassment. Frodo bumped his shoulder against hers. "I'm joking. You are doing great."

She gave him a half-smile from behind the erected menu.

"But," Marigold said. "Frodo, are you certain you are qualified enough to be a tutor? You never listen in class!"

Frodo made for her to be quiet. Marigold looked at Allie. "How about I give you those lessons instead? I promise that your progress will be much faster, and you can even start going to school in the fall."

Allie simply blinked and exchanged a look with Frodo. "Well, either way is fine," she replied with a shrug.

Marigold stood up and seized her hands from across the table. "I promise that I will do a good job!"

Allie almost felt blinded by the shine of her enthusiasm. "Umm… sure!"

At that moment, the doors of the inn opened to give entrance to Lotho Sackville-Baggins. Frodo saw him and quickly hid underneath the table. A few days ago, he had placed a nail on Lotho's chair, causing him to scream out shrilly when he had sat on it. Lotho suspected Frodo right away even though he had no proof, and ever since then he had been thinking of ways to get back at the blue-eyed lad. Frodo really didn't want to be seen by him right now.

"Frodo?" Marigold frowned.

Allie looked up and saw Lotho. "Oh how wonderful. Here comes the leader of the Three Idiots," she muttered.

Sam and Rosie were now aware of the whole feud going on between Frodo and Allie, and Lotho, Sancho and Ted. Allie had told them with vivid details of the time Frodo and she had beaten up the other three.

Lotho approached their table and looked disdainfully at every face. "Where is that Baggins loser?"

"He's not a loser!" Marigold cried out indignantly.

"Be quiet, blondie."

"It would be better for you not to encounter him," Allie replied haughtily. "He told me that next time you bother him, that nail will be going through your ear instead."

Lotho cringed and rubbed his right ear uncomfortably. "He doesn't have the guts for that."

Allie's eyes widened as she pointed behind him. "Frodo is right behind you with a nail!"

Lotho twirled around vividly, but saw no one. All the kids sitting at the table laughed. Lotho's face turned tomato red.

"Laugh all you want now," he growled, "but that loser will not be laughing when I get my hands on him."

He stomped away furiously.

"Don't let the door hit you on your way out," Rosie screamed out delightfully.

"Is he gone from the inn?" Frodo murmured from underneath the table.

"No," Allie lied with an amused smile. "How many times do I have to cover for you?"

"This is the last time, I swear!"

Allie saw his blue eyes peering up at her from underneath the table and sighed. "You said the same thing last time!"

One of the hobbits came to their table. "Ready to order?"

The kids all placed their orders.

"What about your friend?" the hobbit asked, staring at Frodo's vacant place.

"Mushroom soup and roasted beef with onions but without that green herb thing," Allie answered on his behalf.

"You mean the coriander?" the hobbit suggested, amused.

"Yes, that thing. And cheesecake for dessert, same as me."

"Drinks?"

She glanced down at Frodo under the table. He thought about it for a second and mouthed something back to Allie.

"Strawberry ice. With extra cream on top," Allie told the waiter.

The hobbit noted everything down and then left. She then caught the others gaping at her.

"What's wrong?"

Rosie smiled and whispered conspiratorially: "You really know well what Frodo likes."

Allie shrugged. "I suppose."

She caught Marigold glancing at her in a peculiar way, but got distracted when Frodo poked her in the leg. "Is he gone? My muscles are getting cramped."

"No, he's still there," Allie answered as she balanced her legs a little against the sides of the chair.

Marigold passed her head under the table. "That's not true! He's left a long time ago. You can come out now."

Frodo's head emerged with exasperation on his traits. "Allie! Seriously!"

She shrugged. "He could have come back."

Frodo sighed as he ruffled his dark brown curls.

Their food arrived and they all dug in hungrily. Allie was the first one to devour everything; when she was done, she sat back and patted her now full stomach.

As she looked around at Marigold and Frodo conversing about their latest test, and Sam and Rosie talking about Sam's gardening, she felt a sense of serenity. These days, life made sense again. Things were good and she even had friends here. Since Pippin didn't live that far, he sometimes visited as well. She had the feeling that maybe now she could finally live a normal life.

* * *

"I don't know," Allie said, not looking at Bilbo.

"Why don't you think about it and tell me by the end of the day?" Bilbo sipped his tea. "Frodo said he wants to go with me, and I don't feel good leaving you all alone in Bag-End."

Allie went back to her room and let herself fall on the bed, bouncing a little on the mattress. Bilbo said he had matters to discuss with Saradoc, and he wanted Frodo and Allie to accompany him to Buckland. Frodo, to her surprise, had said yes right away. It seemed as though he was no longer afraid of going back to the place where he had lived with his parents. As far as she was concerned, she wasn't so sure about the enterprise; Merry would be there. And so would be Berilac. And Fatty, and Folco, and everyone else who hated her.

She just wanted to forget everything about that past.

The door was thrown open and in came Frodo. Allie sat up swiftly, making her curls fall in front of her eyes a little. "Do you ever knock?"

He shrugged and dragged a chair close to the bed to sit on it. "You never knock either."

She didn't feel like arguing with him today, so she just lied back down.

"I think you should come with us," Frodo spoke up straightforwardly.

She rolled away from him. "I really don't know. Everything that I want to forget is back there."

"I know," he agreed softly, "but perhaps it is time to confront that past."

She sat up and stared at him seriously. "Why are you going back, Frodo?"

His blue eyes were clear and determined. "I'm going to visit my parents' graves." He put down his elbows on his knees and leaned on his hands. "And you need to talk to Merry. You two were good friends before. Do you really want your friendship to end like this? Merry can be a stonehead, but if you talk to him, I'm sure he will come around one day."

Allie was thoughtful at this; there was some truth to those words. She had come to understand that Merry not standing up for her back then was not really his fault. And besides, she had really put Berilac in danger and she could understand why Merry was angry at her for that. She had been angry at herself all this time as well.

Her hands played a little with her sheets. "I guess I have to talk to him again someday. All right then, you have convinced me."

Frodo smiled back and ruffled her hair. "That's my Allie."

Allie was taken aback a little. "That's my Allie" was something Robin used to say.

_Robin._

Before, not a day used to pass without her thinking about him, but lately, she hadn't thought of him at all.

"Pack up your clothes then," Frodo's voice cut through her thoughts. "I don't know how long we will be staying there, but just in case."

She studied Frodo pensively. She suddenly realized that, ever since she had come here, he had been filling the hole left by Robin's absence. They fought a lot, just like before, but there were also those moments in which she was surprised by how nice he was to her, like the time he had rescued her from inside the Mill, and the time he had put candles in the water for her birthday.

"Do I have something on my face?" Frodo inquired.

She blinked, pulled out of her thoughts. Wordlessly, she climbed up from the bed and shuffled in front of him. Frodo leaned back against the chair when she peered down at him. He felt a lump grow in his throat upon staring into her eyes from this proximity and quickly swallowed it back down.

"I just realized something," she said.

"What?" Frodo whispered.

"_I'm going to think of you as my brother from now on_," she thought, but didn't say. Instead, she just smiled a little and said: "I'm not telling you!"

She turned away and started packing things into a bag she pulled out from under her bed. Frodo watched her for a moment, slowly letting out the breath he had been holding. There was that strange sensation in his chest again, like that time under the rain.

He stood up and cleared his throat to get rid of those thoughts, and left Allie to pack.

A few days later, by a clear morning of March, Bilbo brought over his old cart with the old pony that belonged to one of the farmers of Bywater. Allie came out of the smial, still yawning, her poncho tightly draped around her body to keep her warm.

The snow on the sides of the road were melting, and the dirt-paved road starting at the front door and winding away into the hills was peeking here and there from underneath the patches of dirty looking snow. The pony neighed a little in greeting when Bilbo came to pat its head.

"All right kids, time to set out for a new adventure!" Bilbo proclaimed, putting on his brown hat.

Allie climbed up groggily onto the cart, and Frodo followed her there, eyes only half open.

"Uncle, did we really have to wake up this early?"

"Early? What are you talking about? The sun is rising already!"

Frodo groaned and settled down more comfortably on the hard bench inside the cart. Bilbo climbed up in front and seized the reins of the pony. "Ready? Let's get going!" he announced cheerfully.

Allie yawned again as she dully watched the smials pass by. When they reached Sam's house, they saw the old Gaffer standing in the garden, waving at them. Bilbo waved back joyfully.

"Do you still know the way to the Lonely Mountain?" Allie suddenly asked Bilbo.

Bilbo had finally finished his tale about the dragon a mere three weeks ago, but only because Allie and Frodo had been holding his favourite umbrella hostage and had threatened to throw it in the lake if he did not finish his story.

"Of course! I shall never forget it."

"Can you take us there someday?" she asked hopefully.

Bilbo threw her a quick glance over his shoulder. "Craving an adventure, I see?"

"Yes! I want to slay a dragon too when I grow up!"

Bilbo laughed. "Young lass, if your heart is in the right place, someday you will have your own adventure to look forward to."

"My own adventure? But I want to go see the places you have been to first!"

"Is that so? Well perhaps one day I will take you both there."

Allie sat back against the cart, satisfied.

After a particularly harsh bump in the road that sent them all jolting in their seats, she felt a bump against her shoulder. She turned to see Frodo with his eyes closed and his head bobbing in all directions. She watched in fascination as his head tilted lower and lower until it finally came to rest on her shoulder. Bilbo turned around at that moment and laughed at the scene. "That boy has never been a morning person. He only wakes up three hours after the sun has risen."

He gave her a look of complicity and put a finger to his lips. She smiled a little and echoed back the gesture.

The wind blowing was cold, and she shivered, wondering how he could even sleep in these conditions. She looked out of the window and saw that the sky was dark in the East. It looked like a thunderstorm was coming; the first one of the spring.

She reported her attention back to Frodo and saw that the last button of his coat was open. Frowning at his carelessness, she carefully used her other hand to button him up.

After a few minutes, she started feeling sleepy as well. Leaning her head against Frodo's, she closed her eyes and let the cart rock her to sleep.

* * *

**White moon, red moon, black moon. It matters not. To expand the pack is all we need. **

Yes.

**Those of the South are gaining more power. I cannot suffer this.**

I understand.

**The only problem is that the humans are starting to take notice of us. **

There are always those who are half-human.

**Recruiting in their territory is not easy. They are close to each other. They will notice right away if one of their own goes missing. I thought that our last convert was an easy prey, but the half-humans searched for him extensively.**

However, the half-humans are our only resources at this point. We must try again.

**You are right. We shall breach into their territory once more. **

The only hindrance is Councillor's prophecy…

**Do not bring up that old fossil! He has not had decent advice for me for years, so he has resorted to make-believes.**

Your orders, then?

**We shall proceed with the recruitment over their border, just the two of us.**

Yes, Queen.

* * *

Allie was shaken awake by Bilbo's hand. Cracking her eyes open with difficulty, she looked around into the gloominess and recognized Frodo's parents' smial on Buck Hill. It wasn't even evening yet, but the rain clouds looming above their heads casted a giant shadow upon the land.

Bilbo reached over her to shake Frodo, who was still asleep on her shoulder. And speaking of her shoulder, she couldn't feel it anymore. She patted his cheek, stirring him into awareness.

Frodo rubbed his eyes and stretched. His back hurt from pressing against a cranny on the back of the cart. However, when he realized in what position he'd been sleeping in all along, he jerked up straight with a blush on his face.

Allie didn't notice it as she was already getting off the cart. Frodo quickly regained his composure and followed Allie down onto the ground. Bilbo was already pushing open the door to the smial. Frodo and Allie grabbed their belongings and followed him inside.

Frodo walked along familiar hallways, with Allie just two steps behind him. There was a family portrait of Drogo, Primula and Frodo hanging over the dinner table; a thin layer of dust had already collected on the edges of the frame. Frodo paused upon seeing it, and he grabbed the side of the table, hard.

Allie pulled on his sleeve. "We don't need to stay here."

Frodo forced himself to detach his eyes from the family portrait. "It is strange," he said. "This place is different from what I remember. It used to feel like home, but not anymore."

"What is home now? Bilbo's place?"

"I… don't know. I know the answer should be yes." His blue eyes settled on her. "But sometimes it feels like home is nowhere."

She turned to lean on the windowsill beside the dinner table, staring out at the ominous rain clouds. "I feel the same way. I used to think of Bree as my only home, but Bag End is not so bad."

Frodo went to lean on the windowsill beside her, their elbows touching a little.

"Isn't it funny? We are both left without parents and we both ended up with Bilbo."

She shrugged. "Perhaps it is fate. Do you believe in it?"

"I don't know. I never thought much about it."

Allie turned around and leaned her back against the windowsill instead in order to look at him. "There is one thing Robin used to say to me all the time."

Frodo gaped at her because it wasn't often that she willingly brought up her brother.

"He said," she continued, "that home is not a place. It is created by the people you are surrounded by."

"It sounds like something he would say."

Allie's grey eyes were shining a little in the growing darkness. "If what he said is true, then I do have a home right now."

Frodo detached his eyes from the view outside to look at her. "Where is it?" he asked softly.

Allie blinked and then gave him a cheesy smile. "Right here."

"Here? My old place?" he asked confusedly.

"No. Right… - she pointed a finger to his chest – here."

"Hey kids! Come grab something to eat and then it's off to bed!" came Bilbo's voice from the hallway.

"Coming!" Allie shouted back, before sprinting out of the room.

Frodo remained where he was with a dazed expression on his face. Did Allie really say what he thought she said?

* * *

Allie was rummaging through their bags in search of the food they had packed up for the road. She found a pound of salted pork and brought it to the kitchen. There were several knives hanging from a hook on the wall and she took one down.

Suddenly, she felt like she was being watched. She turned around vividly, but the kitchen was deserted. It wasn't the first time this sensation crept up on her. Ever since she got rescued from the closet, seldom were the days when she did not feel like someone or something was constantly following her. She would have attributed that to her imagination if not for the memory of that black pupil she had seen from across the closet door. Now that she thought about it, it did not look human at all. She noticed that her hand holding the knife was trembling and had to put it down.

There was a shuffling sound behind her. She twirled around violently with one hand to her chest, but it was just Frodo, standing there looking at her in silence.

Allie reported her attention back to the meat. "You scared me."

She heard Frodo's footsteps coming toward her and she seized the knife again, this time with a firm hand, and cut through the meat.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"Allie," he called in a low voice.

Slowly, she put the knife down and turned around once more. Frodo's usually blue eyes had transformed into deep wells of darkness.

Allie's eyes snapped open as she sat up on her bed, chest heaving.

It was morning, but the room was gloomy.

"A dream…" she muttered to herself.

She clenched and unclenched her right hand. For some reason, she could still feel the contour of the knife that she had been holding in her dream. She suddenly flashbacked to the moment she had taken the kitchen knife from the drawer at her smial after she was freed from the closet.

She frowned. For the past year, she had never stopped wondering about the weirdness of that event. It must have been a friend and not a foe who had freed her from that closet. But why not simply unlock the doors? Why were there lacerations and cuts in the wood? And the most important question of all was the identity of her rescuer. Who was it?

Climbing out of bed, she yanked open the curtains to reveal even greyer skies than the previous day. It looked like the rain was still not coming down.

When she entered the kitchen, Frodo was already seated at the table. For a second, she was scared to look at his face, but when he turned towards her, his eyes were his normal baby blues and he was flashing her a warm smile.

"Bilbo left a note," he said. "He's gone to see the Master of Buckland in the early morning."

Allie grunted in reply. She still did not like to think of that hobbit.

Frodo and Allie had a quick breakfast and then left the house as well. The air outside was humid and heavy with rain. They walked across the fields in silence, pointing to each other the places where they used to play, each recollecting the days when they used to walk along these same roads with their other friends of Buckland. Allie still recognized and remembered every hill, every fence and every farm.

They were nearing Brandy Hall when suddenly Allie froze. In front of them, a few meters away, she had spotted a familiar mop of brown hair.

"It's Merry," she murmured.

Merry spotted them as well. After a second of two, he started walking in their direction.

"Hello, Frodo. Long time no see!"

"Yes, it is good to see you again."

They exchanged an accolade. Merry then turned towards Allie, and she squirmed a little under the intensity of his gaze. She'd never been intimidated by Merry before, but now she really didn't know how to face him nor what to say.

"Hello, Allie," Merry greeted her.

She tried to hide behind Frodo but he nudged her back into the open.

"I will let you two chat," Frodo declared diplomatically before sliding away.

Allie shot him a half-dark, half-imploring glare but he just smiled reassuringly in return.

Once Frodo left, Allie and Merry stood there in silence like statues. Neither knew where to begin. She could see that Merry was starting to get worked up in the way he scratched the back of his neck. When she had made up her mind to come back to Buckland, she had rehearsed her reunion with Merry many times. It was time to put all that effort into good use. Taking a deep breath, she finally looked up and said:

"Merry, I know I did wrong. I had lots of time to reflect back on everything that's happened, and if only I were stronger, I could have handled things differently. I know you hate me for hurting your cousin, and I feel so very sorry about that. When I see Berilac, I will tell him the same in person. I understand if you no longer want to be friends, but I want us to at least part on friendly terms. The last time I saw you must be when I was locked up in Brandy Hall and you came to visit me. At that time, I…"

"Stop!" Merry finally spoke up with his palm up.

Allie swallowed back the rest of her speech.

Merry ruffled his brown curls and sighed. "Oh buggers, this is all too serious for me. I really didn't want our meeting to start this way."

Allie simply waited.

Merry sighed. "I wish we could all forget about what happened a year and a half ago. And now that I see you again, I really don't want us to stop being friends. Actually, I was scared you would be the one who would want to cut the ties."

"Me?" She was surprised; she did not expect Merry to be saying that at all. "Is that why you didn't come to Frodo's birthday?"

Merry nodded grimly. "I knew you would be there, and I'm not proud to say this, but I didn't want to face you and risk seeing you being mad at me."

"I was never mad at you! You should have been the one who is mad."

"I know I was mad right after… you know, the incident. But then, Pippin made me feel guilty about the whole thing. I know that I should have stood up for you more back then, but I was confused…"

Allie suddenly started laughing. Merry arched an eyebrow in confusion and waited for her fit of hilarity to cease.

"I'm sorry," she said when she calmed down a little, "but you have no idea how nervous I have been all this time when I thought of seeing you again."

Merry's face split into a silly grin, a grin that she was more than familiar with. "Same here. Look, I really just wish to forget about all that. You have not been to Buckland in a while. Do you still remember these places?"

She nodded enthusiastically, suddenly feeling so light that she could fly.

They started walking down Buck Hill and into the fields around Bucklebury village.

Allie had a bittersweet feeling with every step she made. In this place she'd had the best memories, but also the worst. When she had left Buckland with Bilbo a year and a half ago, she hated this land with everything she got, but now that she strode on it once more, all she felt was regret that things hadn't been different.

She looked back and saw Frodo trailing behind them a few miles back. She beckoned to him to join them, and soon he came sprinting in their direction.

"So you two made up?" he asked with a grin.

Merry huffed and then passed an arm around her shoulder. "You know I've never managed to stay mad at her for long, no matter what she does."

Allie grinned at Merry; she knew he'd been truly mad at her this time, but his forgiveness meant everything to her. She promised herself that she'd never disappoint her friends again.

Merry stopped when they reached a clearing in the woods. "You two remember this place, right? This is where we held our yearly campfire and told ghost stories."

She nodded. "And then we went to visit the cemetery. Me and Frodo, we got separated from the rest after that stunt that Berilac pulled, and then we ran for our lives among the graves. It was all so very creepy, wasn't it, Frodo?"

She turned towards Frodo but his face was grave. She nudged him on the arm. "What's wrong?"

"There's something I have to do," he answered back.

"What?"

He looked at her briefly. "I'm going to the cemetery to visit my parents' graves."

Merry heard what he said and walked back to them, his face serious. "Yes Frodo, I think you should. Come on, let's go."

The three of them trudged in the woods till the cemetery came into the view. The air was so stiff and humid that Allie was venting herself with a pan of her shirt by the time they arrived. Frodo led the way among the orderly graves, and unlike the first time they set foot in the cemetery, this time around no one spoke nor cracked jokes.

Finally, Frodo stopped in front of two graves set side by side, looking new compared to the ones beside them.

He went to wipe the growing vines off the stone, revealing deep inscriptions. Then, he stood there and just stared at the two graves.

Merry was flinging his arms by his side, feeling awkward. Allie looked at Frodo and saw him biting his lower lip. She then seized Merry by the wrist and slowly dragged him away, giving Frodo some privacy.

When they were at the limit of the cemetery and out of earshot, Merry raised questioning eyes towards her. "Why are we leaving first?"

At first, she didn't say anything and just looked at Frodo's lonely figure in front of the two graves. But then, she whispered: "because I think he's going to cry, and he doesn't like it when folk see him cry."

"But there is no shame in crying. It is not like we are going to judge him."

"Just listen to me on this one."

Merry shot her a perplexed look. He did not remember her to be this sensitive nor perceptive to other people's feelings last time he saw her. And neither was he. Both of them, along with Pippin, were the clowns of the group who let their mouths run ahead of their brains.

She had changed.

Merry was going to say something when the sound of footsteps coming from behind them interrupted him. Allie turned around and was more than surprised to see Berilac coming.

"I saw you from Bucklebury village," he said to Merry in terms of greeting.

Merry nodded, and his brown eyes quickly traveled to Allie, who was staring at the burn scar on Berilac's cheek with a heavy heart. Berilac caught her staring, and his fingers caressed the scar momentarily, before smirking. "It is a fierce mark, isn't it? It makes me look badass."

"Berilac, I'm so…"

"…sorry," he finished for her. "I know. And I forgive you for it."

"Really?" She was shocked. She never thought she deserved such easy forgiveness from Berilac.

"What is the point of not forgiving you?" He shrugged as his brown eyes continued glinting. "It's not like the past will change if we stop being friends."

"I will never let myself do something like this again," she swore fervently, seizing his hand.

Her touch, however, seemed to trouble him as he pulled his hand away. "Don't think about it anymore," he said after sticking his hand in his pocket. "Who knows how we would have acted if we were in your stead?"

Allie gave him a big relieved smile, and he smiled back in kind. She had been dreading her reunion with Merry and Berilac so much that she was ecstatic everything had turned out better than she could hope.

"I see nothing's changed much," she said as she looked around.

"'Course not. It's not like you've been gone for such a long time," Berilac answered.

"Do the villagers still hate me?"

"Folk here don't have such long term memory," Merry reassured her. "We rarely even talk about it anymore."

But Allie knew that if the villagers saw her again, it would probably rekindle those old memories, so it was best for her to stay in the fields.

"Come on, since you're here, let's go ride on the raft!" Berilac declared enthusiastically. Ever since she was gone, he'd tried riding on it by himself many times already, and now he was an experienced rafter.

Merry, however, was looking forlorn. "I have another detention today so I have to get to the school."

Allie couldn't help chuckling. "Merry, some things never change with you."

Merry pouted. "Whatever."

"I didn't have anything to do with it this time," Berilac was quick to add.

"I will be done in three hours," Merry supplied in a hopeful tone. "So don't go off having too much fun without me."

Then, he sprinted away.

Berilac motioned at Allie to follow him. "Come on, then."

"Wait, we have to wait for Frodo." She turned around to peer into the cemetery. "He should be out any minute."

"Perhaps not. He is visiting his parents for the first time, so it might take a while."

However, as though to discount his words, Frodo chose that moment to turn away from the graves and to walk back towards them across the cemetery.

"There he comes!" Allie exclaimed, missing the look of displeasure on Berilac's face.

As she tracked Frodo's progression towards them, Berilac approached her from behind.

"So, Frodo and you and living together in Hobbiton now?"

"Yes," she answered without turning back.

"How is it?"

She shrugged. "It is normal, I suppose."

"Do you remember what I told you before you left?"

She finally peeked over her shoulder, and what she saw in his brown eyes made her turn around completely. "What you told me?"

"The day I said I would follow you to Bree if I had to. Before we came across that gang of boys on the road. Before you burned down the barn."

Berilac was staring straight into her eyes and it was making her a little ill at ease. She didn't like to think back to those days because it always made her angry and unsettled, and because the memories were dark and blurry anyway. However, for Berilac's sake, she tried thinking back to that day, but nothing of particular interest came to mind.

Berilac read the answer in the confused lines of her brow and sighed harshly. "Of course you don't remember."

"What… did you tell me that day?" she asked uncertainly.

He ground his teeth in frustration.

At that moment, Frodo finally joined them. His eyes were red and it was clear that he had cried, but still he smiled when he saw Berilac. "Hello, Berilac."

Berilac forced himself to relax his features and returned the greeting in kind.

Allie went to stand by Frodo's side. "Are you all right?"

Frodo turned his back to Berilac as he faced her, and sighed as he rubbed at his eyes, letting the sadness he felt show in them. "I miss them more than I thought."

Allie looked at him sympathetically. She wished she could say the same thing, but she didn't remember her mother enough to miss her like that, and she definitely did not miss her father.

Still, she seized Frodo's hand and squeezed it because that was the only thing she could do. Frodo smiled a little as he squeezed back.

Berilac narrowed his eyes when he saw the gesture.

Allie let go of Frodo's hand and said: "Berilac wants to ride on the raft. Come on, let's go have some fun!"

Frodo nodded and started walking in direction of the Brandywine River.

Allie was about to follow him when Berilac suddenly seized her by the wrist and twirled her around to face him. Caught off guard, her first reflex was to snatch her arm back while shoving him away at the same time.

"Let's finish our conversation first," he snarled, no longer trying to hide his anger.

Rubbing her wrist, she eyed him warily, unsure of why he was acting and speaking so harshly. "All right, but you didn't need to pull me like that. Like you said, I don't remember what you told me that day, so just tell me again."

Berilac approached her. "That day, I told you that I liked you!"

She didn't know what she was expecting him to say, but it was definitely not this. It left her quite puzzled.

"Do you still not understand what that means?"

"Of course I know what it means," she exclaimed. "And I like you too."

Berilac rolled his eyes. "You obviously still don't have a clue what it means. Or you're just acting, because I think you know plenty well what it means when it comes from Frodo."

"What does Frodo have to do with this?"

"Everything!" Berilac screamed as he stepped away in fury.

Allie was at a loss as to why Berilac was saying something nice such as liking her but in such an angry tone. She had the clear impression that she was missing something important, but she couldn't figure it out.

"Berilac…" she started in a voice she wanted pacifying, but he cut her off: "No, don't say anything. You know what? I forgave you a long time ago for the fire and for this – he pointed at the scar on his cheek – but I can't forgive you for being this clueless."

"If I'm clueless, just tell me clearly what you want to say."

Frodo had now stopped walking and was looking back at the both of them, sensing the tension and hesitating to walk back.

Berilac saw Frodo staring out of the corner of his eye and muttered: "I already told you everything I want to say, so now it's up to you to figure it out. And Allie, you better remember this when you finally know what it means: I liked you first!"

Having said that, he stomped away across the fields.

"Berilac! Where are you going? The raft is not that way! Berilac!" Allie called after him, but he didn't turn back.

When he had left, Frodo walked back to join her. "What happened? I thought you two had made up?"

Allie stared for a moment in silence in the direction Berilac had disappeared into, before answering: "I thought so too. But then he started saying crazy things and getting angry, and I don't even know…"

Frodo arched an eyebrow. "What did he say?"

Allie looked at Frodo in the eye before quickly casting her glance down. For some reason, she didn't want to repeat to him Berilac's words. "It doesn't matter."

She walked in big strides across the grass and Frodo sprinted to be at her level. "Don't be sad," he tried reassuring her, "even if Berilac is still mad at you now, one day he will come around. At least you are friends with Merry again."

Allie pursed her lips. If only Frodo knew that this wasn't about the fire anymore.

Lightning suddenly flashed among the dark clouds, followed by the deep rolling of thunder. The two hobbits both raised their heads up to stare at the menacing skies.

"It looks like it's finally going to rain. Let's go back," Frodo suggested urgently.

They started walking back to Buck Hill at a brisk pace, but they haven't progressed fifty meters yet that the rain suddenly fell down hard all around them, without warning.

It was raining so hard that the raindrops touching Frodo's head almost hurt. The curtain of rain was so dense that he could barely see a few meters ahead of him.

The next flash of lightning fell to the ground near them, making him startle. The rain seemed to be in his eyes, ears, mouth, everywhere!

A hand circled around his wrist as Allie's voice resounded near him: "This way!"

They passed by a few trees without stopping, until they reached a clearing in the woods where low bushes with long leaves grew. Allie led Frodo towards them and they both squeezed themselves underneath the tallest bush. Then, Allie pulled the leaves over their heads. It wasn't offering much protection, but it was better than being out in the open.

Frodo noticed for the first time that the red poncho that Allie had been wearing was now gone. "What happened to your poncho?"

"I was running and a branch tore it. It was dangling all over the place so I got rid of it."

Her blonde hair was made almost dark as the rain plastered it against her head. She wiped the water off her face as best she could and looked at the tempest in awe. "It's the first time I see such a big storm! This is pretty wonderful."

Frodo squeezed himself a little bit more against the bush. "Only you would use the word wonderful to describe this deluge."

The rain didn't look like it was going to ease up soon, so they huddled close together and waited in silence.

"That time I went to Bree," Allie suddenly said, "something happened after I went to visit Tom's grave. I was walking out of the cemetery when this one grave at the edge caught my attention. I didn't know how to read the inscriptions on it, but I had a weird feeling that it was my mother's."

She gulped as Frodo turned his head towards her.

"It was almost as if she was calling me…"

"Maybe she was," Frodo replied softly. "Maybe she wanted to see you."

"But it's strange, isn't it? All these years, I didn't even know where she was buried. As a kid, I went playing in that cemetery all the time and I never felt anything like it."

"Perhaps it's because this time you were by yourself?"

Allie shrugged and then shivered. "It was frightening."

"I would find it comforting if I had a feeling like that at my mother's grave," Frodo murmured.

"You didn't feel anything?"

"I didn't feel a presence like what you felt."

"It wasn't really a presence. Just… I don't even know how to describe it. It was almost as though there was an invisible string pulling me to the grave."

Lightning stroke down again somewhere near the woods.

"Talking about strange things," Allie whispered, "there is something else that's been bothering me for a while."

And so she told Frodo of her mysterious rescuer who had gotten her out of her closet after lacerating the door.

"A normal hobbit would just remove the stick blocking the handles and then open the door, right? No need to tear the whole thing down."

Frodo was looking at her with a frown. "Why have you never told me this before?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. It was never the right time. But who do you think got me out?"

"I… can't say."

Allie saw the way he was eyeing her, and suddenly she knew what he was thinking.

"You think I got myself out? That I did that?"

"I never…"

"But that's what you were thinking, isn't it?" she insisted.

Frodo sighed and then shrugged. "Let's face it, Allie. That's the most plausible explanation. Perhaps you just pushed hard and broke the door down."

"Trust me Frodo, I tried hard to break it down, but it was too solidly blocked. I barely had room to move. And besides, I lost consciousness while I was still inside the closet. But I did see…"

She suddenly paused and then frowned at the rain.

"See what?" Frodo encouraged her, entranced.

"Did you see that?" she suddenly asked as she pointed in front of her.

Frodo detached his eyes from her face to peer out at the curtain of rain instead; but all he saw were dripping plants.

"I don't see anything," he replied.

"There was something red behind the bushes," she exclaimed. "It went by quickly! It looked like flames!"

He laughed. "Nice try Allie, but I'm not scared. Now let's go back to your story…"

But Allie interrupted him by standing up.

"Where are you going now?"

"I know I saw something!" she replied stubbornly. "I'm going to check it out!"

Frodo sighed and pretended to play along. "All right, but here, take my jacket." He slid the black jacket off his back.

"I'm all right," she protested distractedly, already one step out of the cover of the bush.

"It will protect you against the rain," he insisted.

Finally, she took it from him and draped it over her head as she sprinted under the rain to the line of bushes growing opposite to where they were taking shelter.

Halfway there, she looked back towards Frodo and he motioned at her to keep going, since she was already out there. He thought this was either some new game or a way to prolong the suspense of the closet story she was telling him.

Her eyes searched him an instant before she continued advancing towards the bushes in big silent steps. Upon reaching them, she draped his jacket over her shoulders to free her hands. Carefully, she pushed the branches apart and peered on the other side.

Frodo was now standing, craning his neck to see what she was up to.

Allie turned around and shook her head, indicating that there was nothing there. Frodo was almost disappointed; he was certain that she was going to come up with something strange like she usually did.

But then, almost too fast to register, it happened.

A red flash emerged from the bushes behind Allie, and then a second later she was down, pinned against the wet ground by a large beast. Before she even had time to scream, the creature sank its teeth in her left shoulder and drew blood.

The motion jerked Frodo's jacket off her shoulders; it sprawled on the ground in a pile of dark tissue.

Allie felt all her nerves and muscles tense as she arched her back in pain, mouth open but with no sound coming out of her constricted throat. She could feel the animal's teeth ripping through the tissue of her shoulder, and she could feel the warm streaks of blood running down the side of her body.

Just when she thought that she was going to be devoured, the animal suddenly jerked its fangs out of her flesh and jumped back violently.

She raised her head and saw its red shape frozen a few feet away from her. At first she thought it was some kind of dog, but it was too enormous to be one.

No, the animal was no dog. It was a wolf.

A wolf with flame-colored fur.

* * *

Hey guys! I know it's been awhile, but this is taking me longer to write now! And I'm busy looking for a job too. Not easy in this day and age :(

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter.

And the cliffhanger :p


	21. Awakening

**Awakening**

The wolf's red fur was glistening with rain, its fangs bared and still dripping blood. Its black eyes took in the shape of the frightened hobbit lass lying in front of it and it backed away a little.

Allie was mesmerized by its deep black eyes, which were not dull like that of normal animals, but filled instead with a kind of fierce and intelligent glint. The red wolf's posture was haughty and elegant as it stared her down.

Suddenly, a shadow jumped over her body, and a second grey wolf joined the red one. Streaks of white fur ran from the back of its ears to its front paws. The red wolf bared its bloody fangs again upon seeing the grey. The latter remained at respectful distance but directed an urgent growl in direction of the red.

The red reported its attention back to Allie and to the black jacket lying by her side, and then crouched low as though ready to finish her off.

Allie's whole body was trembling as she waited for the inevitable.

But at that moment, a rock came flying in their direction. The red wolf sauntered to the side gracefully and easily avoided the projectile. Frodo, a few feet away, his face pale with unsuppressed fear, raised his hand to throw another rock at them.

The grey wolf narrowed its eyes and tensed its muscles to attack him, but the red wolf stood in its way. They exchanged a look, and then they both sauntered behind the bushes, disappearing as fast as they had come, like phantoms.

The whole attack hadn't lasted more than a minute.

After they left, for a moment everything was still except for the sound of raindrops hitting the earth and for Frodo's anguished panting. His hand was still raised in mid-air, holding onto the rock.

Then, Allie clutched the bleeding wound on her shoulder and finally started screaming in pain.

Frodo blinked as though awakened from a dream and then rushed to her side, his blue eyes worriedly searching hers. When he saw the left side of her shirt already damp with blood, he swallowed hard. He wanted to say something but his throat was dry and his vocal chords were not working.

Allie was now simpering as she huddled onto herself.

"We need to get you to a healer," Frodo finally managed to whisper through cracked lips.

There was a taste of chalk in his mouth as he looked around jerkily, frightened that the wolves might come back.

Allie, however, was in no position to walk or even move. The bleeding also didn't seem as though it would stop. At this rate, soon she would faint from loss of blood.

Frodo crouched down, grabbed her arms and carried her up on his back with difficulty. Then, he started running through the woods as fast as he could, blinking rain out of his eyes every now and then. His legs felt like cotton.

Allie was panting against his neck, hot and rapid. He forced himself to stop thinking of the sensation of her blood sipping through the fabric of his own shirt as she leaned on him and let her arms dangle in front of his chest.

His heart lifted a little when he finally reached the edges of Bucklebury village. Sprinting down the battered roads, he went straight to the smial he knew pertained to Hob the healer.

"Mr. Hob! Mr. Hob!" he screamed as he banged desperately on the round door. He could feel Allie slipping from his back and he doubled the intensity of his knocking.

There was a shuffle inside the room, and then Hob was at the door, peering down disbelievingly at him.

"Oh my, if it isn't young Frodo."

Frodo pushed past him inside the house. "Quick! My friend is badly hurt!" He leaned down and let Allie slip from his back onto the couch.

Hob took a single look at her blood-soaked clothes and his face turned serious. Kneeling down beside her, he quickly pulled away her shirt to reveal the bite marks on her shoulder from where blood was still oozing.

Allie was conscious and her shiny grey eyes were wide as she watched Hob wordlessly stroll into his kitchen to come back with a bucket full of water and a clean towel. He then wet the towel and tried cleaning her wound as best he could. Allie ground her teeth to keep from screaming out.

But soon the towel was red, and Hob asked an anxious Frodo to bring more.

When the healer thought the wound looked clean enough, he applied some alcohol on it with a piece of cotton, telling her to bear with him when she hissed a little, and finally wrapped a bandage around her shoulder.

When he was done, he sat back on the balls of his feet, satisfied. But then he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and turned a serious look on Frodo, who looked down uncomfortably, knowing what was coming.

"What exactly happened?"

Frodo exchanged a quick glance with Allie. "There was some animal in the woods that attacked us," he said in a strained voice. "It was some kind of huge dog."

"A wolf," Allie added in a tired whisper.

"A what?" Hob exclaimed, but before she could repeat it, he continued: "There's no such thing."

"I have heard rumors of them when I was in Bree," Allie said, and her eyes brimmed with certainty in spite of the cold sweat on her brow.

Hob looked taken aback and muttered: "Don't say silly things, lass. Frodo, you tell me what it was."

Frodo played with the edge of his shirt wet with rain and blood. "I… I have heard of wolves from my parents. They do exist! I haven't seen one before so I can't be sure, but those animals were too big to be dogs."

The other hobbit sighed and threw his hands up in the air. "Ah, kids these days. Really, there's no use trying to reason with you. What are you both doing in Buckland anyway? Did you come with Bilbo?"

Frodo nodded. "My Uncle is with Mr. Saradoc."

Hob eyed Allie, and then went to put on his raincoat. "All right, you two stay here. I'm going to go fetch Bilbo. But first I'll bring you both a blanket and let you warm up while you wait."

When Frodo and Allie were finally left alone after Hob left, none of them spoke for a while. Then Frodo, wrapped in a huge blanket, went to sit down on the couch beside her.

She was watching the fire crack in the hearth without blinking.

"Does it still hurt?" he whispered.

Her hand rose to clutch at her shoulder reflexively, but she stopped herself before it touched the bandages. "It's a dull kind of pain now. I'm trying not to think about it."

Frodo was about to ask her if she was sure it was a wolf, but Allie spoke first: "Did you see its eyes?"

Even though back then Frodo should have been too scared and too busy throwing rocks to notice those details, he did remember the instant the grey wolf had looked at him. Cruelty and intent to kill had been clearly written in its eyes. The intensity of its gaze had paralyzed him completely, freezing his blood more surely than the icy rain around them. He would have been a goner if the red wolf hadn't intercepted the grey one at the last minute.

"Yes," he simply said.

"I have seen them before," she added in a frightened whisper.

Frodo quirked an eyebrow, but she just stared into the fire with a troubled expression and didn't say anymore.

"Why do you think they didn't finish us off?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I think when the red wolf bit me, it could have killed me easily, but instead, it almost immediately jumped back, as though… as though it got scared, you know?"

Frodo was dubious. "Scared of what?"

"Of biting me. It shouldn't have bitten me."

"That's… how can you be sure of that?"

She turned two fierce grey eyes upon him. "That's how I felt when I looked into its eyes. They looked uncertain, like it had just made a mistake. Also, it kept looking at your jacket, Frodo."

Frodo leaned back against the couch. "So the mystery deepens. We are just grasping at straws here. By the way, what do you mean when you said you have heard rumors of wolves in Bree?"

Allie told him that she had heard the guests at the inn gossip about seeing wolves roaming around Bree, but they had had no real proof, for no one had been found bitten to death yet. She had just finished talking when the door opened again, and in entered Bilbo followed by Hob the healer.

Bilbo, still wearing his raincoat, hurried to her side. "What happened? Were you injured badly? Show it to me!"

Allie pulled her shirt down and revealed the white bandages, with already a red circle spreading in the middle.

"Oh goodness gracious," Bilbo exclaimed. "Hob, she's still bleeding!"

"It should stop within the night," the healer replied comfortingly.

But Bilbo was not appeased. "A good friend of mine back in Hobbiton is very knowledgeable in healing herbs. His name is Dom, and he lives in the Bywater region. Frodo, I've brought you there once before, do you remember?"

Puzzled, Frodo nodded.

"I want you to bring Allie back to Hobbiton on the cart first thing tomorrow morning. I still have some unfinished business with Saradoc so I cannot go with you. You do know how to operate the cart, right boy? I taught you last time."

Again, Frodo nodded.

"Bilbo, I will be fine," Allie protested. "It almost doesn't hurt anymore. We can go back together when you are done with your business."

"I still want you to get checked by that healer first. Now, don't argue with me!"

Allie sighed in acceptance.

The next morning, the rain had finally stopped and the skies were clear. When Frodo and Allie went out of their house, Bilbo was already prepping the ponies and getting them ready for the trip back.

"You really don't need to do this, Bilbo," Allie insisted again. "I changed my own bandages this morning and it's not even bleeding anymore."

"What if it gets infected?" Bilbo looked at her worriedly, but Allie flashed him a smile.

"I'm strong," she declared proudly. "That will not happen."

"Let's go, since uncle Bilbo insists," Frodo rushed to his uncle's rescue.

Allie yielded to their wishes with a shake of her head. Frodo climbed on top of the driver's seat of the cart, and Allie joined him there. Frodo seized the reins and waved goodbye to Bilbo as he whipped the side of the pony, setting the cart in motion.

The weather was nice and the wind blowing over their faces carried the scent of rain soaked earth and spring flowers.

Allie broke a twig hanging from one of the low branches they passed under and then held it in between her teeth. "Were you scared?"

Frodo knew she was talking about the wolves again. Two wide blue eyes settled on her. "Of course. I have never been so scared my whole life. I hope we will never see more of them again!"

However, she shook her head reprovingly at his words. "Oh, Frodo. Have folk ever told you that you are too honest for your own good? If it were Merry and Pippin, they would probably boast that they were not scared at all."

He was a little taken aback and then looked at her sulkily. "I'm not a liar like them. There is no shame in admitting it when you are scared."

Allie laughed at this. "I thought lads were not supposed to show that they are scared. Even if they are, they are supposed to hide it and put on a brave front."

Frodo stared ahead and did not reply back.

She nudged his side. "Are you angry?"

"No."

"Yes, you are!"

She laughed again and then patted his hand. "But you were actually really brave back there, when you threw stones at the wolf."

Frodo's cheeks turned slightly pink. "Why, thank you."

"You could have run away, but you didn't."

Her grey eyes turned serious at this, and Frodo also looked ahead in silence.

They chatted about other things afterwards, but then Allie turned silent as it was nearing noon. Frodo startled a little when she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"I'm going to sleep for a while," she whispered.

"All right," he answered after swallowing.

Over time, Frodo had noticed that Allie was never the type to let herself lean on anyone, but on the rare occasions that she did, she always chose his shoulder to lean on. Her choice made him feel warm and happy; it made him feel like he was needed and that there was a reason for him to be alive.

He wondered if that's what having a sister felt like. But somehow, it didn't seem right. He had never tried to be her brother because he knew that spot belonged to Robin, whether he was still here or not.

It was something else. What was it? What was her to him?

Frodo put a hand in front of his eyes and raised his head to peer up at the sun for a second, before it became too bright, forcing him to cast his glance down. He was a little hungry, but he didn't want to stop and disrupt the position they were in.

"Aren't you glad that you made up with Merry at least?"

Allie didn't answer. Was she truly asleep?

"Allie, do you know?" he continued slowly. "Of course I would not have run away without you when you were being attacked by the wolves. How could I leave you now? After all, you told me that you feel like it is home when I'm with you."

He threw a sidelong glance at her, but her eyes remained closed. "You know, those words really got me thinking a lot. You must have said them on purpose to make me troubled, you little brat. But now that I know you feel this way, I have thought about it a lot, and I have realized that I also see you as family now. Along with Bilbo. We could happy the way we are, the three of us together."

He stared down at her unruly blonde curls splayed out on his shoulder and smiled. "Don't worry, Allie, I will take care of you from now on. I did promise your brother after all. Only, unlike your brother, I will never disappear on you, I swear."

He stopped talking and sighed, wondering why on the earth he was saying all this when she couldn't even hear him.

The wheels of the cart bumped onto a rock on the side of the road and Frodo and Allie were both jerked up by the motion. Frodo seized the reins with both hands to stabilize himself, but Allie slid down and landed across his lap, motionless.

"How can you still stay asleep after that?" Frodo teased. "You really sleep like a rock. Come on, get up!"

He put a hand on her arm to shake her, and then frowned.

Something was wrong.

"Wake up!"

The skin on her arm was burning hot. He touched her forehead, and it was burning even hotter there. Alarmed, he started shaking her even harder. "Allie! Allie! What's wrong?"

Allie let herself be handled like a rag doll, offering no resistance. Frodo pulled on the reins, hard, and the cart came jerkily to a stop. Frodo could see that her fever was really bad, but they were in the middle of nowhere between Buckland and Hobbiton.

To go back to Buckland or to go forward to Hobbiton?

It would take too much time to turn the cart around at this point since the road was narrow. Frodo took the reins again and whipped them hard against the pony's side. The animal neighed and started galloping along the country roads, dragging the cart in its wake.

After three hours of mad ride that felt like three days to Frodo's anxious mind, they finally reached the Bywater village where Frodo knew the old herbalist resided. He guided the exhausted pony straight to the gate of his smial and then stopped. Allie hadn't woken up this entire time and her fever was still running high. Her forehead felt like a stove under his palm.

However, she wasn't shivering nor breathing laboriously, like Frodo remembered himself doing last time he was sick. She just looked asleep, with the exception that her insides were burning up. Briefly, he wondered whether it was because of the wolf bite.

He left Allie on the cart and ran to the front door of Dom the herbalist's smial. However, before he could knock on it, the door flew open by itself, and a skinny blonde hobbit was standing in the threshold, looking down at him behind huge spectacles. His eyes were red as though he hadn't slept in days.

"What is this?" he asked dryly as greeting.

"My friend is really sick! Bilbo told us to come here. I'm his nephew. I came here with him once, do you remember me?"

Dom's hard glance softened a little. "Oh yes, of course. That troublemaker Bilbo, always giving me work to do every time he comes to see me. What is the problem with your friend? Bring her inside!"

Frodo nodded quickly, relieved, and went to retrieve Allie. With difficulty, he managed to carry her down from the front seat of the cart. Maybe it was his imagination running wild, but touching her bare skin almost burned his hand.

When Dom saw Frodo struggling, he went to help him carry the girl. However, when the herbalist touched her arm, he backed away with a cry of alarm.

"What is this? She's burning up!"

Frodo, sweating under Allie's weight, ignored his outburst and carried her inside.

The inside of Dom's house looked like a jungle more than anything else. There were more pots of plants dispersed all over the place than Frodo could count. He couldn't detect any furniture at all; no table, no couch, no chairs.

Dom, regaining his senses, pushed Frodo towards a door hidden behind a curtain of green vines. On the other side was a small and somber room consisting of a bed and a night table. Frodo headed towards the bed and gently put Allie down.

Dom was now examining all his plants in the other room, muttering to himself. Frodo went to join him, but before he could open his mouth to say a word, Dom bent down till his face was an inch from Frodo's, and said seriously: "Tell me what happened to her. That is no ordinary fever she's got going on."

Frodo took a deep breath and decided to trust this hobbit. So he told Dom everything about the attack of the wolves. Unlike Hob from Buckland, Dom didn't show any expression of disbelief when Frodo mentioned the wolves, but his expression darkened.

As he listened to Frodo speak, his hands busied themselves picking a leaf here and a root there. Afterwards, he meshed all his ingredients together by grinding them with a sharp stone, resulting in a green liquid at the bottom of the steel plate.

Then, they both went back to the bedroom and Dom pulled back Allie's bandages. To Frodo's surprise, the bite marks were almost gone. The only thing that remained were red markings where the animal's teeth had sunk in the day before.

"It's almost healed!" he couldn't help exclaiming. "But then why is she like this?"

"It is likely," Dom said darkly, "that there was some sort of venom on the attacker's fangs."

"What nonsense!" Frodo cried out. "She wasn't attacked by a snake! It was a wolf… a huge dog if you like. Dogs don't have venom."

The glint coming off Dom's spectacles made Frodo fall silent. Dom then rested an ear on top of Allie's chest and listened for a while. Then, he brought a spoon in front of her nose and saw vapour on it.

"She's breathing normally, but her heart beat is unusually fast. She's not displaying any of the symptoms of a normal fever, and yet she is burning up. I was going to treat her injury with this – he signalled at the green liquid – but it seems she does not need it."

For the first time, there was perplexity apparent on his face. "It's the first time I see a disease like this."

"You have to do something!" Frodo exclaimed angrily. "Don't you dare give up! Just… cool her down first!"

Dom stayed still for a moment, before he went to a plant, picked out a few leaves and started grinding them again. A clear juice soon flowed out from underneath the crushed leaves and Dom collected it in a goblet.

Then, he went to Allie's bedside, damped a handkerchief with the juice and started rubbing it on her arm. A scent of mint soon filled the room.

"I will try to cool her down a little with this."

Frodo nodded and sat on the bed, watching Dom work intently. Up until now, his mind had been too frantic to question how things had come to this, but now that he had brought her to someone more capable than he was and was left with nothing to do, he found himself thinking that this couldn't be real. It was probably a nightmare; he'd wake up and find that Allie and him hadn't left Buckland yet.

Or better yet, that the wolf attack in itself hadn't happened.

For hours, Dom rubbed the juice of the plant on her body tirelessly as Frodo stared in a daze. Throughout the whole process, Allie's face was peaceful, belying the fire burning inside of her that was killing her.

Frodo didn't know when he had dozed off, but when he woke up again, it was the middle of the night and he was lying down on a blanket in the living room, amid all the vases of plants. In the dark, their twigs looked like crooked arms extending into the shadows.

His muscles ached and for a moment he didn't know where he was.

He turned his head and saw a flicker of light coming from behind the vines. It was only then that he remembered.

"Allie…"

Maybe she had gotten better. He needed to go check on her. As he stood up with difficulty, the door behind the vines creaked open, revealing the source of the light as a candle standing on the night table. From his position, he could see a portion of the bed along with Allie's blonde hair spread across the pillow.

And then Dom's face appeared against the light. He looked even more tired than when Frodo had first set eyes on him. Dom removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes with two fingers.

"How is s…"

"I'm sorry," he said, still rubbing his eyes.

Frodo reported his eyes from Allie's hair to his face.

"I'm sorry," Dom repeated. "I did all I could."

The silence seemed to stretch on for hours and hours.

"What did you just say?" Frodo finally asked in a dry voice.

Dom slowly put on his glasses again. "I said, I did all I could for her. I have had many patients with many different diseases over the years, but it is the first time I see symptoms such as hers. I don't know what caused it, and so I don't know how to cure it. I'm sorry, lad."

After another long moment of painful silence, Frodo suddenly leapt forward, knocking a flower pot to the ground in his motion. The sound of the porcelain breaking did not even faze him as he pushed past Dom and into the small room dimly lit by the almost dying flame of the candle.

Allie's face looked as peaceful as ever as she lied there among the blankets in disorder. The dying flame of the candle casted a warm glow on her pale face. There was a strong scent of mint floating around in the room, so strong that it almost made Frodo nauseous.

Slowly, he approached the bed and extended a hesitant finger towards her hand. He almost gasped out loud when his finger finally contacted her skin. Throwing himself forwards, he circled her wrist, and then touched her forehead.

"She's cold!" he exclaimed, turning towards Dom who was observing the scene from the doorway.

"You did it, Mr. Dom! You brought the fever down! She's cold!"

Dom just stared at the overjoyed boy without a word, but there was immense pain and sadness in his eyes. Frodo soon caught on and his smile slowly faded.

Turning towards Allie again, he noticed for the first time that there was no movement in her chest.

She wasn't breathing.

"Allie…" he muttered, shaking her wrist. "Allie… wake up. Open your eyes."

He shook her harder. "I know you are joking," he said in a falsely light tone. "But it's not funny anymore. Wake up, all right? Open your eyes."

He was shaking her so hard now that her whole arm was jerking up and down in his grip.

"Open your eyes!" he screamed with all his might.

Suddenly, a big hand enclosed itself on his and stopped his jerking. He looked up and there was Dom's face looking down upon him. For some reason, Frodo couldn't see him clearly. His features were blurred, as though Frodo were under water.

"Stop it, kid," Dom said gently and sadly. "She's gone."

Frodo shook her head, and tears fell on his lap. "No, she's not. She can't be. Just yesterday, she was fine. She was telling me that lads should never admit that they are scared." He turned back towards her. "I'm not scared, Allie. I swear that I'm not. Please wake up now."

Still holding her by the wrist, he lifted her arm towards Dom. "Look, her fever is all gone now. She's cooled down. She will be just fine. She's just… resting. She's just…"

And suddenly, the words wouldn't come out anymore; it was as though something had descended down his throat, crushing his vocal chords and making it hard to breathe.

His chest was becoming painful, so painful he couldn't stand it. He suddenly became conscious of Dom's hand running up and down his back in a comforting way while he whispered words to his ears that Frodo couldn't comprehend.

He wanted to tell him to stop, but he couldn't talk.

He couldn't do anything but sob.

He didn't know for how long his tears lasted, but when he wearily raised his head again, Dom was gone and the room was as dark as ever. Would this horrible night ever end?

He noticed that he was still holding Allie's wrist in his hand, and quickly let go. The coolness of her skin that felt like salvation to him at first now frightened him.

He could faintly make out her unmoving shape on the bed. His eyes hurt and his whole body ached.

For some reason, he still didn't feel like this was real. He tried forming the thoughts "Allie is dead" in his head, but he couldn't. It was too absurd. It didn't make any sense.

"What am I going to say to Bilbo now?" he muttered lifelessly. "He entrusted you to me, but I let this happen."

He sat against the bed and stared up at the dark ceiling. "Why?" he asked to no one in particular. "Why does this have to happen when I have just started thinking of you as family? Why do you have to leave me too?"

The night outside the window seemed to go on forever.

"Don't leave me behind, Allie. I want to go to where you have gone to."

Frodo put down his forehead against his bent knees and closed his eyes.

* * *

_You have not been careful enough._

**Silence! Do not spew nonsense at me. Protector, come here!**

_You forgot about the prophecy, didn't you? Misguided scents in the wind and rain carry the forces that will undo you. However, those same forces will also bring salvation to our race. _

**I do not believe in prophecies, Councillor. I will be the master of my own fate. This mistake remains that: a mistake. There are five sunsets till the blood awakens. Two have passed, but three remain. That is enough. Protector, where are you?**

_Time should have made you wiser, and yet…_

**The wise thing for you to do is to stop your talking lest you want your head bit off. I have no time for your misguided beliefs. Protector, there you are!**

Have you called for me, Queen?

**Many times. I have a task for you.**

Is it about the she-hobbit?

**You understand me well. **

Should I kill her after all?

**You understand me too well. Follow her scent and finish her off before the third sunset. Go now. Be swift. If the other male half-human is there with her, convert him. I do not wish for any more complications.**

Yes, Queen.

_It is too late._

**What did you say, Councillor?**

_Do you not feel it? It is happening already._

*Da-boum*

**My Blood… my Blood is resonating.**

Queen, this is…

**It cannot be! It has not been five sunsets yet! How can she…**

*Da-boum*

**Protector, go after her NOW!**

*Da-boum*

**Do not let her awaken!**

*Da-boum*

**Kill her!**

_It is too late._

*DA-BOUM*

In the small and dark room at Dom the herbalist's place, Allie's eyes suddenly snapped open. They were shining eerily in the dark, like two small light bulbs in the night.

Miles from there, a wolf's howl rippled through the night.

* * *

Allie slowly sat up in her bed. She was in a place she did not know, and she had no memory of the last twenty-four hours.

She brought a hand to her chest and felt her heart thumping steadily in there. For some reason, that sensation felt extremely reassuring.

It was still night time. She looked around the small room and saw no other furniture except the bed she was lying on and a night table with a burnt out candle and a bucket of water on top of it. Then, her eyes settled on the lad curled up with his back to the side of her bed.

"Frodo?" she whispered upon recognizing him.

But he didn't look up. He must have been asleep. She wondered why he was sleeping here.

Here. Where exactly was here? The last thing she remembered… was falling asleep on the cart.

She lied back down but felt sleep eluding her.

She had never felt so alert in her life.

However, she remained immobile until the early rays of the morning sun finally penetrated the curtains. Only then did she leave the bed to walk to the window, pulling the curtain to one side, letting the sun come into the room. The light seemed especially bright to her eyes that morning.

She heard movement from behind her and turned in time to see Frodo stirring.

He lifted his head off his knees and looked around through half lidded eyes. When they settled on her, he blinked a few times.

"Allie.." he muttered softly. "You let me come with you after all."

"What are you talking about, Frodo? Where are we?" she exclaimed loudly.

The clearness and realness of her voice made his eyes widen as the last traces of sleep disappeared from his pupils. Allie frowned upon seeing Frodo's face become pale as though he was seeing a ghost.

Frodo was frantically looking from the empty bed to her.

"A-A-Allie?" he stuttered. "How can this be? How…?"

Allie put her hands on her hips. "Frodo, what's wrong? Why do you look so scared?"

Slowly, he stepped forward till they were face to face. Allie's curious grey eyes peered into his flabbergasted blue ones. She could tell that he was in shock, but she didn't know why.

And then, his hand circled her wrist. "You are warm…"

Before she had time to reply, he suddenly threw his arms around her and hugged her so tight she thought he'd choke her to death. And all the while he was whispering "You are alive! You are alive!" over and over again. Allie could only stare at the opposite wall in shock as she let him squeeze her.

She had never been hugged like that in her entire life. She had never been hugged as though it mattered, really mattered, that she was alive.

"Frodo… what is wrong?" she asked him softly.

He let go of her and she saw with worry that he had tears in his eyes.

"Are you crying?"

Frodo quickly rubbed his eyes with his fists. "No, I'm not! I'm just happy!"

He seized her shoulders and shook her. "I thought you died!"

Allie gaped. "Well… obviously, I didn't. I'm still here."

A look of awe returned to Frodo's features. "But… but… you collapsed on the cart, and you had a really high fever! So I brought you here, to that herbalist that Bilbo told us to go visit. He tried everything to bring down the fever, but then he said you didn't make it, that you died! I didn't believe him, so I touched you, and you were as cold as ice!"

Allie stared at Frodo for a second longer, trying to figure out whether he was joking or not, but Frodo did look truly distressed as he recounted the events.

"R-really? I had no idea…"

She brought a hand to her chest again, and felt her heart thumping ardently.

At that moment, there was knocking on the door.

"Kid? Are you awake?" came over Dom's voice.

Before waiting for a reply, he pushed the door open with his shoulder while his hands carried a breakfast plate.

"I know you must be in shock, but you still have to eat some…"

His plate shattered on the ground.

He stared at Allie standing there next to Frodo and brought a shaky hand to his heart. "Oh dear Lord…"

His legs gave out underneath him and he crumbled on the floor, shaking badly.

Frodo, worried, went to help him, but Dom shrieked in a high pitched voice: "Don't come near me!"

With his eyes strained on Allie's face, he pointed a shaky finger in her direction. "You… you died last night! Why are you standing? What are you?"

Allie was scared by the crazy glint in Dom's eyes, but she stood her ground bravely and said nothing.

"Maybe you made a mistake…" Frodo started.

"No!" Dom yelled. "I confirmed it! I confirmed it three times to be sure! There was no pulse, and she wasn't breathing! And her body was as cold as that of a corpse! She was dead!"

Allie felt her hands shaking as a feeling of horror arose inside of her.

Dom finally rose to his feet with the help of the wall. "Leave!" he shrieked. "I don't know what you are, but I don't care! I don't want to deal with witchcraft!"

Frodo seized Allie by the hand and pulled her to the door. Dom plastered himself against the wall to let them pass, and there was fear and disgust in his eyes as he looked down at Allie.

They passed by the room with the myriads of plants without stopping.

"Go first," Frodo told her.

She looked at him uncertainly for a moment and then complied.

Frodo turned to look at Dom standing there with his glasses glinting ominously in the darkness of his smial.

"Please don't tell Bilbo about this. Don't tell anyone."

In three steps, Dom was in front of Frodo and clawed a hand on his shoulder. "Of course I won't. No one would believe me even if I did. But listen to me carefully, boy. Whatever that girl is, she is not like the rest of us. Stay away from her, if you know what's best for you."

Frodo stared back at him ardently and shook off his hand. "She's my family."

"How can she be your family when she's not even a hobbit? What am I saying? She's not even a living thing!"

"No! She's just like you and me…"

"Just like you and me? Listen to me, boy. Living creatures do not die and come back to life. That is impossible. She's either a witch or one of the even more fearsome creatures that lurk out there. The world is not limited to the Shire, boy. The world is big, and the world is messed up. There exist many more loathsome creatures than you can imagine."

His glasses glinted ominously as his red eyes glared at him. "Get rid of her," he whispered manically and secretively in his ear. "Get rid of her. Do not associate yourself with her, or it will bring you great sorrow in the future."

Frodo felt all his nerves bristling with rage. "Shut up! I will never desert her! She's not some loathsome creature! She's just Allie! You know nothing about her, so don't say any more!"

But Dom wasn't ready to let him go. "You have to listen to me, boy. You are the nephew of my friend, so that's why I'm giving you such advice! It is for your own sake!"

"Thank you for your concern, but it will be up to me to take up your advice or not."

He stared at Dom coldly one last time and left.

Their cart was still outside. Frodo unfastened the pony's reins from the pole and jumped up onto the driver's seat, where Allie was already sitting, looking grim.

As the cart was set into motion, Frodo turned to her. "Let me make one thing clear, Allie. I don't know how you did it to come back, but I'm just thankful that you are here, alive."

Allie didn't reply, eyes staring at the road in shock, and Frodo realized that she must have heard what Dom had said.

"Allie… don't listen to that old fart. I will never…"

"Frodo," she interrupted in a small voice. "Frodo, I'm scared. What is this? What is all this? Did I really die?"

He saw her hand clenched into a fist as it rested on her lap; he put his hand on hers.

"I don't know what happened. But you are alive right now. Your hand is warm, and you are breathing. That is all that matters."

She put her other hand on his and held on tight, with tears pooling in her eyes.

"I'm scared," she whispered. "I'm so scared."

Frodo stared at the road ahead. "Me too."

* * *

I wrote this fairly quickly! *feeling proud*

Inspiration is flowing right now. I'm at the good part of the story and enjoying it. I hope you guys are too :D

Leave some comments or theories as to what you think is going on. I'd love to have your feedback on things!

**Potato-pancake-muffin-salad:** Wow, thank you so much :D You're the first person to tell me that. It made me super happy, haha. And the chapter is here! what did you think? :p


	22. Transformation

**Transformation**

_One week later_

Allie was sitting on the grass of the garden in front of Bag-End. It had been a week, but Bilbo still wouldn't let her move beyond the gate of the front yard. She hadn't felt any traces of sickness the moment she had woken up in Dom's house, so she didn't understand Bilbo's present concerns and precautions. The only worrisome thing was her "death experience", but she tried not to think about that too much.

"Allie, there you are!"

Allie looked up from the flower she was twirling in her hands. Her face lit up with a smile upon seeing Rosie.

"Thank goodness you are here, Rosie! I was bored to death."

"Is Bilbo still not letting you play?"

"Play?" she huffed in resignation. "I can't even leave the yard."

Rosie shook her head. "You should just slip away when he isn't looking."

Allie threw a glance over her shoulder and shivered. Rosie followed her gaze and saw Bilbo's face in the kitchen window, watching them. Rosie backed away a little. "Is he surveying you like this all the time?"

Allie threw the flower on the grass. "Yes. His tenacity is scary. He is too much of a worrywart. It's not even because I might be sick, it's just that he is scared I might encounter another wolf if I wander off."

"Speaking of that, it must have been terrible!" Rosie exclaimed as she sat beside her cross-legged.

"Yes, it was truly scary. I don't ever want to see a wolf again."

"I didn't even know wolves existed! I thought they were a legend, just like the rumor of those trees moving in the Old Forest in Buckland."

Allie remained silent at that. She knew better than anyone that the Old Forest was not a legend.

Rosie started uprooting some daisies and waved their stems together to make a tiara. Allie watched her work for a minute or two before lying down on the grass.

"Rosie?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think it means when someone says "I like you"?"

Rosie paused in her movements for a second. "It depends. Was it a lad or a lass?"

"A lad."

Rosie's ecstatic face appeared in Allie's field of vision. "What? Who told you that?"

Allie sat up, feeling a little nervous under Rosie's brimming gaze. "Some lad from Buckland. You don't know him. But does it matter? I just want to know what he meant by that."

"How can you not know?" Rosie exclaimed with wide eyes. "It was obviously a confession!"

"A confession? You mean that he did something wrong?"

Rosie hit her forehead with her palm, feeling disbelief wash over her at her friend's denseness. She took in a deep breath and locked eyes with Allie.

"Allie, here is the thing. When a lad tells a lass that he likes her, it means he has feelings for her. So if the lass likes him as well, she says : "I like you too.", and they can start dating."

Allie thought about it. "Well, I told him that I like him too, but he didn't seem happy about it."

Rosie stared at her unblinkingly. "Now I feel bad for that boy, whoever it is. Confessing to someone as dense as you, gee!"

Allie crossed her arms. "Well, sorry for being dense!"

"The point is, he doesn't like you as a friend. He likes you as more than a friend. But you only like him as a friend, don't you?"

Allie thought about it. "We are not on very good terms now, but yes, I suppose I still like him as a friend in spite of all."

"So you should not have told him that you liked him!"

Allie scratched her cheek. "This is so complicated. How do I know the difference between liking someone as a friend and as more than a friend?"

"Well, it's like this," Rosie replied knowingly, "when you like someone as more than a friend, when you see that person, your heart starts beating faster. If he touches you, it feels really embarrassing, but also warm and enticing at the same time. You want to spend all your time with him. That kind of feeling."

Allie was nodding, entranced, and tried to remember it.

"The most tell-tale sign that you like a boy though," Rosie said with a mischievous glint in her eye," is one simple thing."

Allie leaned forward expectantly. "What?"

Rosie drew her face close and whispered: "You want to kiss him."

Allie leaned back with a frown. "Kiss him? That is disgusting!"

Rosie eyed Allie with amusement. "Well, you might be a little young for that."

"I'm not young, I'm eleven!" Allie protested.

"That is young, my friend. But don't you worry, you will understand when you get older."

The image of Berilac floated an instant in Allie's head, and she imagined herself kissing him, but then quickly burst the thought bubble before she could see it happening in her head. It was just not right.

"How come you know so much about this?" she asked Rosie. "Do you have someone you like as more than a friend?"

Rosie looked at her impishly. "Maybe, maybe not."

Two days later, Bilbo finally lifted the house confinement on Allie, although with much reluctance. If Allie heard Bilbo say "be careful" one more time, she might just go crazy.

As she wandered around the marketplace for the first time in ages, she finally felt herself at home. She had missed her freedom!

Now, if only she could find someone to play with. Frodo was busy with school. It was nearing summer vacation, so he had a lot of tests. He spent his afternoons studying with Marigold and some other classmates. Allie thought the whole thing was stupid. Why bother to memorize so many things for one test that they would end up forgetting the minute summer vacation started?

She wanted to go bother Sam again by stealing his gardening tools, but even that had gotten old over the years.

Lost in thought, she didn't notice the planks of the fruit stand beside her shaking.

"Hey, you, careful!" a hobbit's voice boasted.

Allie whipped her head in time to see the fruit stand next to her collapsing. A wooden plank started falling down towards her as fruits of various sorts rolled towards her like a colourful wave.

And she, frozen there on the spot with surprise, could only stare.

Suddenly, someone seized her by the arm and jerked her out of the way of the falling plank. When the ruckus died down, she found herself with her face buried in someone's chest as strong arms circled around her waist.

"Sorry for that!" a hobbit lady's voice screamed out from behind the collapsed stand. "Are you both all right?"

"We are fine!" the voice of her rescuer said.

And it was a familiar voice.

The lad looked down at her with a smile and her eyes widened. "Reg?"

Reg dusted off her clothes with one hand and smiled widely. "Hello, Allie!"

"What are you doing in the Shire?"

"I'm here to visit my uncle from my mother's side. I thought you lived in Buckland though! When did you move here?"

"Two years ago! How is Lena and everyone else?"

"Lena is fine. Pulling pranks on the folks of Bree, as usual. She is getting more and more fearless with the passing years, just like you."

Allie grinned. "It's really good to see you! For how long are you staying?"

"The whole summer."

She smiled delightedly. "That is wonderful!"

"I just arrived the other day so I'm not familiar with this town yet. You will show me around, will you not?"

"Of course! I'm the best possible guide!"

Reg ruffled her messy hair. "Still as boastful as always."

Allie bit her lip as she blushed a little.

Reginard had grown much taller than the last time she had seen him, but his brown eyes were as vivacious as always. She caught herself thinking that he'd become a quite good-looking lad.

"Oh, this place!" she suddenly exclaimed, pointing to an ice cream stand. "They have really tasty flavours. Let's get one."

Reg smiled. "All right."

They both got an ice cream and then sat on the grass to eat, looking out over the hills and rivers of Hobbiton.

Reg brushed a hand through his brown hair. "This place is quite different from Bree!"

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Reg directed his gaze to Allie, who was still licking her ice cream.

"Oh Allie, why do you still eat so messily? You have some ice cream on your cheek."

Reg reached out a thumb and smeared the traces of ice cream away. Allie turned her head, surprised, and suddenly found her face really close to Reginard's. His brown eyes seem to bear into her soul as he smiled: "There, all clean."

For some reason, Allie's heart started throbbing like crazy in her chest wall. It was thumping so hard it sent pulses of warm blood to her face and sparks to her eyes. And Reg's face, still so close…

Startled and confused, she suddenly jumped to her feet.

"What's wrong?" Reg asked.

"I-I need to go," she babbled.

"You have not finished your ice cream yet."

"I-I just remembered there's something I have to do. It is good that you are in town Reg. I'm sure I will see you around!"

That being said, she quickly ran away.

Reg watched her go with one arched eyebrow, but then he smiled and resumed licking his ice cream.

Allie made a beeline for Rosie's house. Her half-eaten cone was melting all over the place in her hand, but she paid it no heed.

She knocked once on the door and then burst inside; she directed vague greetings to Rosie's parents and brothers who were in the kitchen, and then saw Rosie standing there in the hallway. Seizing her wrist, she dragged her to her room and closed the door, leaning against it and panting madly.

Rosie could only watch her in astonishment, but then she noticed the leaking ice cream in Allie's hand, and quickly took it away from her and threw it in the garbage.

"What's wrong Allie? You look like you just ran away from the devil."

But Allie was shaking her head and smiling. "Rosie… Rosie… I think it's finally happened!"

"What?"

"I think… I like somebody!"

Rosie's jaw hung open, but then she smiled. "I always knew this would happen sooner or later, Allie," she started dramatically, "it was just a matter of time with you two."

Allie frowned. "You two? Who? You don't know him, Rosie. He's new to Hobbiton."

"Eh? Wait.. it's not Fr…" Rosie clasped her hands over her mouth. "Who is it?"

Allie stared at her suspiciously. "Who did you think it was?"

"Never mind that! Tell me, how come you are so sure you like this new lad?"

Allie sank on the chair with a smile on her lips. "Well, I have known him forever to tell you the truth. He is one of my childhood friends from when I was living in Bree. I saw him just now after two years. He is here for the summer. And he looks different from what I remember. Anyway – her face lit up – I remembered all those things you told me, about your heart beating faster when you see the person you like. Well, today, we were talking, and it happened! He leaned close and I felt it here!" She pressed a hand against her chest. "Do you think that's it? Is that what liking someone feels like?"

Rosie stared at her in silence, and then sighed. "Maybe."

Allie clapped delightedly. "So, now what?"

Rosie scratched her head, her hazel eyes pondering. "Well, now you need to confirm that the first time was not a fluke. So, perhaps you should see him more and see how you feel."

"Yes! I think that is a great idea."

Rosie saw her cheeks flushed red with excitement and thought Allie had never looked so girly before. Well, maybe liking this lad from Bree was a good thing for her.

* * *

Rosie swung her legs a little as she sat on the fence surrounding Bag-End. Sam was plucking out the weeds a few meters away from her.

"These little things are tenacious," he muttered under his breath.

Rosie didn't pay him attention as she looked through the kitchen window at Frodo and Marigold sitting with their heads bent together as they pondered over some of the questions for the upcoming exam.

"Sam, don't you think your sister and Frodo are spending a lot of time together lately?"

Sam looked up and wiped away the sweat on his brow. "Yes. They are doing their best for the exam. I'm really proud of my Marigold for working so hard."

Rosie swung her legs some more, and then pushed herself off the fence.

"Where are you going?"

"Just inside," Rosie answered vaguely.

The inside of Bag End was cool and felt good after being under the sun for so long. Rosie followed the low whispering of voices till she reached the kitchen, and saw Marigold and Frodo conversing quietly while looking at the answer sheet.

"Cheating is not allowed!"

Frodo and Marigold both startled and then looked away guiltily.

"It is a difficult question," Frodo rationalized. "We need some guidance."

"No excuses, Baggins."

Rosie sank down on the seat next to Marigold and leaned her cheek against her hand, letting her curly strawberry hair cascade down one side of her body.

"I think you two could use a rest."

Marigold stretched. "That's a good idea."

"Marigold, do you still have some of that peach cake the old Gaffer made the other day?"

"There's still some left."

Rosie's eyes sparkled. "Do you think you could go get it? I want some!"

Marigold giggled: "All right, wait here."

Once Marigold left, Rosie sat there staring at Frodo with a half smile on her lips. Frodo peeked back uncomfortably.

"I came here expecting to find Allie, but she sure is busy these days," Rosie said, twirling her hair.

Frodo nodded. "Yes, I have not seen her much either. She has been out every second ever since Bilbo allowed her to leave the house."

He looked outside and his expression turned slightly grim. He hadn't had a good talk with Allie ever since they had come back from Dom the herbalist's place. He had a feeling Allie was avoiding him because she didn't want to talk about her "death experience". Speaking of which, nobody knew of it yet; it seemed Dom had kept his word to stay silent.

"Do you know who Reg is?" Rosie's voice cut through his thoughts.

"Reg? Do you mean Allie's friend from Bree?"

Rosie sat up straight. "Oh, so you do know about him. Well, apparently he's in town for the summer and Allie is showing him around. That's why she's so busy."

She watched Frodo's face carefully but only read surprise in his features. "Really?" he said. "I didn't know that. I have heard a lot about him from Allie. It will be good to finally meet him."

Rosie made a noncommittal sound with her tongue, but her hazel eyes did not leave his face.

"I heard that tomorrow they are going to this place that has really good strawberry with cream. Reg has never had that before, so Allie thought it would be a good idea to let him try it."

Frodo leaned back with a smile. "She knows what she's doing. Strawberry with cream is the best thing ever made!"

"How about you, I and Marigold join them after your last exam tomorrow? It will be good to celebrate!"

Frodo's eyes sparkled at that. "Now that is a plan I can get behind."

Suddenly, Rosie's smile faded. "Oh my," she exclaimed with a hand to her mouth. "Perhaps tomorrow is no good after all. How can I be so air-headed? I totally forgot about _that_."

Frodo frowned. "What's wrong? You can't make it?"

"No… it's not about me. It's… well…" she looked at Frodo out of the corner of her eye. "Allie told me it's supposed to be a secret, so I don't know if I should tell."

Frodo leaned forward with interest. "What is it?"

Rosie hid a smile with the back of her hand. "Well, I guess I can tell you since you two are good friends." Leaning forward, she whispered conspiratorially. "Actually, tomorrow Allie and Reg are having a date. So maybe they don't want us to go and disturb them."

Frodo only stared. And then stared some more. And then started laughing. "Allie? A date? That is the strangest thing I have ever heard!"

Slowly, his laughter ceased when he saw Rosie was not laughing along with him. "Hold on, Rosie. Are you actually being serious?"

Gravely, Rosie nodded.

Frodo sat there, dumbfounded. "But she is… she is Allie! Does she even know the meaning of the word "date"?" He sighed. "I feel bad for Reg already. He does not know what he's gotten himself into."

"Oh, but they are childhood friends. They know each other well. I think it will go wonderfully."

Frodo stared down at the table with his brow furrowed.

"You know what, Frodo? We should go check on them tomorrow to see how they are doing," Rosie offered innocently.

"No!" Frodo exclaimed. "It is really none of our business, Rosie."

Rosie shrugged. "All right, I will go by myself then. I will let you know the details. Well, I will let you study. Good luck on your exam tomorrow!"

Frodo merely grunted in response.

Rosie suppressed her giggles and sauntered away. This was going to be interesting now.

A few minutes later, Marigold came back with a cake box in her hands. She found Frodo staring out the window grumpily. "Here comes the cake! Let's eat! Oh, where is Rosie?"

"Don't know…" Frodo mumbled as he stacked his papers together.

"You are leaving?" Marigold asked in disappointment as she set the cake down.

"No use in studying too much the day before the exam," he muttered.

"What about the cake, then?"

Frodo smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry but I'm not that hungry. Try and find Rosie. She's the one who wanted it."

Marigold sighed and collected her papers as well. "Gee, how can you two make me bring this over for nothing?"

Frodo eclipsed himself before Marigold could shower him with more complaints.

* * *

Allie opened her closet cautiously and stared with respect at the unique dress that belonged to her hanging there. It was a simple white summer dress, but she guessed it would have to do.

She never thought the day would come when she'd wear a dress by her own will, but now she had to. The last few days with Reg had been great; they had caught up on their lives ever since Allie had left Bree two years ago. Allie had always trusted Reg as a friend, so she had no problem telling him about what had happened with her father after she had left Bree and gone back to Buckland.

Reg had listened gravely without interrupting. Then, in order to make her forget about those past problems, he had told her some of the pranks their group of friends used to pull on the customers of the Prancing Pony, which had left her laughing so hard her stomach hurt.

She noticed that the contents of their conversation were different now from back then. Before, they just planned their next prank, or made fun of somebody, or told each other jokes, or challenged each other to do dares; but now, they actually talked more about themselves, about more personal things that really mattered to them.

For the first time, Allie found herself trying to please someone else. She was happy when she could make Reg laugh, and she was even happier when he complimented her about something.

Sometimes, she caught Reg looking at her with a new glint in his eyes that was not there before, and it always made her feel embarrassed, but also warm at the same time.

Once, when they were walking, Reg had suddenly pointed to a dress another hobbit girl was wearing, and had said: "Oh, that would look quite good on you!"

That statement was the reason why Allie was now holding a one-sided staring contest with the white dress hanging in her closet.

"There is no choice," she told herself.

Even though she hated dresses, she was willing to wear one just for the sake of seeing that sparkle in Reg's eyes which made her heart flutter.

Carefully, she unhooked it from her closet and slid it on, securing it in place with the white ribbon that came with it.

She tried to brush her unruly hair, but only managed to break her brush further. Sighing, she put some water on the most rebellious strands instead, and hoped that would be enough to make her presentable.

After all, today was an important day.

Reg had called today a date. All she knew about dates was from what Rosie had told her; that it was something that two people who liked each other did.

They would be going to that strawberry with cream place that she loved ever since Frodo had brought her there. Frodo would always say that the strawberry with cream there wasn't as good as the one his mother used to make but that it was good enough.

Feeling ready, she took a deep breath and opened the door of her bedroom.

Her eyes widened when she saw Frodo stepping out of his room from across the hall at the same time. Frodo paused upon seeing her, looked over at her attire, and then his eyes narrowed. "Well, well, well. This is a sight I do not get to see every day."

Allie rolled her eyes and ignored him. "I know you always find it laughable when I wear dresses."

"What are you talking about? I only laughed the first time because it was beyond my imagination, but then I told you that you actually look normal wearing them."

She went to the kitchen and sat down at the table, greeting Bilbo who was sipping his tea as he read the daily Hobbiton newspaper. Frodo went to sit at the table too, facing her.

"Good morning, kids! Your toasts are ready," Bilbo stated without looking up.

Allie and Frodo glanced at each other for a second, before they both bolted out of their chairs and raced towards the frying pan on the stove. The toast at the bottom was always better fried than the one on top. This time, Frodo got there first and snatched away the better toast with a cry of victory.

Allie pouted as she sulkily took the other one.

"Now, now," Bilbo comforted her without looking up from his newspaper.

This was a daily recurrence after all.

As both Allie and Frodo put on strawberry jam on their respective toasts, Frodo glanced up from his bread and casually asked: "So, what is the occasion today?"

Allie knew he was referring to her dress. She finished chewing on her bread, made a face, and then said: "I'm meeting someone."

"As in… a date?"

Bilbo peeked up discreetly from behind his newspaper.

Allie put down her toast. "Yes. And the toast tastes funny today. Or perhaps it's the jam. I hope it hasn't gone bad." She made another disgusted face. "I don't feel like having it today."

She went to rummage through the ice box.

Frodo stared at her back somberly. "Aren't you too young to go on a date? Do you even know what it means?"

"I learned the meaning of it recently," came her muffled voice from inside the ice box. "Ah, found it!"

She closed the box and returned to her seat, holding the bag of sausages. She took one and bit on it. "Now that's more like it!"

"So who are you dating?" Frodo couldn't help asking. He still couldn't believe this whole thing was happening. He kept thinking maybe Rosie was pulling his leg that day, but now everything that Allie said was confirming it.

"Reg," Allie said with her mouth full, but her eyes sparkled. "That's right, I have told you about him, right? He came from Bree for the summer." She leaned forward giddily. "I really like him!"

Slowly, Frodo put down his glass of milk.

For some reason he did not understand, his chest felt stuffy.

Allie peeked at the lines on his forehead curiously. "What's wrong?"

Frodo quickly recomposed himself, and leaned back on his chair casually. "Now I'm intrigued! What is so great about this Reg that he can make insensitive-tomboy-Allie like him?"

Allie sat back with her arms crossed. "Well, for starters, Reg never calls me names unlike a certain someone." Her eyes narrowed.

Finding nothing to say to that, Frodo resumed eating sullenly.

Allie finished her sausage with her eyes set on Frodo's dark curly hair. Finally, she sighed, reached into the pocket of her dress and put down something orange on the table in front of Frodo.

He looked up from his toast and took it. Small circles made of orange string intertwined to make a bigger circle. "What is this?" he asked.

"It's a charm. I made it to help you pass your exam today. Rosie taught me how to make it," she declared proudly. "Well, some of the string is disorderly, but I didn't really have time to do it again, so… I hope it still works."

Frodo looked up at her with wide eyes.

"I was thinking of not giving it to you after all, since you are being a rascal again this morning, but I'm in a good mood today. And besides, it would be a waste not to give it to you after I spent so much time making it."

Frodo dangled it in front of his eyes. "Thank you," he muttered shyly.

Allie smiled, stood up and reached across the table to help him pin it to the inside of his vest. "I think this is how you wear it. You better pass your exam with this. Then, summer can really start. I can't wait to play with you again!"

He smiled back. "Yes, I know."

She looked outside. "Well, I need to go see Rosie, so I will get going now."

Just before leaving the kitchen, she paused, and then turned towards Frodo and called out to him.

His blue eyes met hers. She smiled and twirled twice in her white dress. "How do I look?"

As the white tissue flew around her body and her blonde curls danced, Frodo caught himself thinking that she looked pretty. Really pretty. But for some reason, he couldn't voice it out loud, so he just smiled a little and gave her a thumbs up instead.

Allie's eyes were brimming with happiness as she sprinted away.

Frodo threw down the last bite of toast on his plate and stared at it with a heavy heart. She looked happier than he'd ever seen her; she was even willing to put on a dress now. It should have been a good thing after everything that she had been through, but somehow, he couldn't feel happy at all.

He felt as though she was going somewhere and leaving him behind.

He left the kitchen to get his pens ready for the exam.

Bilbo put down the newspaper once he was left alone in the kitchen. "The kids are growing up," he said to himself with a chuckle.

After the exam, Frodo eclipsed himself rapidly before any of his classmates could catch him. He knew they would want to compare answers, and he wasn't in the mood for that. He thought he had done pretty well, so he didn't want his bubble of success to burst just yet.

He wandered to the lake and soaked his feet in the water, sighing in contentment as he thought about the long summer ahead.

Suddenly, two hands clasped his shoulders. Surprised, he turned around to stare into the ecstatic face of Pippin.

"Surprise!" Pippin exclaimed joyfully. "I finished school last week already, so I wanted to come here unannounced."

"Pippin!" Frodo cried out happily. "It is so good to see you!"

"Where is Allie?" he asked enthusiastically. "I want to surprise her too."

Frodo's face fell a little at that, but then an idea hit him.

"I don't know Pip, but how about we go have some strawberry with cream at the usual place?"

Pippin's eyes shimmered. "Yes, let's do that!"

The two boys chased each other till they reached the little café. Frodo pushed the door open and looked around sheepishly. And there, close to the window, he spotted Allie sitting at a table with a brown-haired lad. They were conversing and laughing.

He blew out some air grumpily.

Pippin's eyes suddenly widened as he spotted Allie as well. "Oh look, Allie is there! Who is that lad?"

Frodo gave him a mischievous smile. "Let's go find out."

Allie looked up when she saw Frodo and Pippin approaching. "Pippin!" she exclaimed.

She stood up, and Pippin and she exchanged a hug. "You are in Hobbiton early this summer."

"I know," Pippin said giddily. "School finished earlier."

"This is Reg," Allie introduced with a smile. "Reg, this is Frodo. And this is Pippin."

They all exchanged greetings before Frodo and Pippin dragged chairs to sit at their table.

"What a coincidence!" Pippin said. "We were just coming here for strawberry with cream too."

At this, Allie threw Frodo a suspicious glance, but the latter turned away and called for the waiter instead.

After he finished placing his order, Frodo turned around and took a good look at Reg. His thick brown hair fell a little in his vivacious brown eyes. Frodo hated to admit it, but Reg was also taller than he was.

"I was just telling Allie that we should go visit those water mills! I have not seen anything like it in my entire life," Reg admitted.

"There's nothing to see," Allie said uncomfortably. "We can just watch from afar."

"The inside is pretty impressive though! You can see how the big wheel works," Pippin chirped.

Reg turned towards him excitedly. "Is that so? All the more reason to visit it."

"I'm in," Pippin agreed.

Frodo was eyeing Allie though; at the way she was sitting straight instead of slumping in her chair like she usually did; at the way she kept pushing her hair behind her ear nervously. She really was trying hard, wasn't she?

Frodo and Pippin's orders came, and they dug in avidly.

They kept chatting for a while longer, with Pippin telling them stories from his hometown.

"Oh yes, Allie! We went to steal watermelons again from farmer Maggot."

"Did you use the same method?"

"Of course! That method is a stroke of genius! And this time we didn't have problems with those two lads Fred and Milo either. They have not gone back to Maggot's farm ever since we won that bet and told them it was our territory from now on."

Pippin pumped his chest proudly.

Allie smiled. "Good for you." She looked at Frodo. "We should go back there and do it again sometime."

Frodo beamed. "I am looking forward to it."

Pippin nodded emphatically. "Knowing that we will not have to confront Fred and Milo nor the dogs is a big relief. Last time, we almost got into a fight with those two boys."

"A fight?" Reg frowned.

Pippin nodded seriously. "After we won the challenge, they wouldn't leave us alone, so Allie got angry at them and our two groups were ready to get into a fight, but luckily I was able to deflect that somehow."

Reg reached over the table and clasped a hand on Pippin's shoulder. "Good for you, Pippin. Fighting is the worst. I absolutely hate fights."

"Sometimes there's no choice," Allie grumbled.

Reg gaped at her. "Remember what we did back in Bree when someone angered us? We would pull a prank on them the next day to get back at them. Fighting is wrong. Especially for a lass like you, right?"

Allie bit her lip and said nothing, but her cheeks had started to flush red.

Frodo's eyes were traveling between Allie and Reg as he finished his last strawberry. Suddenly, he noticed that Allie's strawberries were almost untouched. "What am I seeing?" he spoke up teasingly to dispel the tense mood. "Usually you would shove all that in your mouth in less than thirty seconds."

Allie suddenly raised angry eyes towards him. "Well, sorry for not eating like a pig today."

She pushed back her chair and marched resolutely towards the exit. Frodo blinked and was going to go after her but Reg beat him to it.

Outside the little café, he seized her by the arm and twirled her around. "Allie, why are you getting angry? Maybe I said something that I shouldn't have."

Allie saw contrition in his brown eyes and felt her anger fade. To be honest, she was angry at herself. Somehow, she felt like she had messed up and shown a very unattractive side of her. "I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly. You didn't do anything wrong. I just feel strange today," she admitted in a small voice.

Reg examined her flushed face for a second before laughing and flicking her in the forehead. "You really have not changed much. Always acting so impulsively."

His eyes softened and he patted her head. "That's what I have always liked about you."

Allie's heart did some acrobatics in her chest and a happy sort of disbelief painted itself clearly across her face. But then, she frowned and flicked him back. "That hurt, Reg."

Reg massaged his own forehead. "That hurt even more, Allie."

From the doorway of the café, Frodo and Pippin watched as Allie and Reg were now noisily trying to flick each other on the forehead. Pippin was smiling amusedly but Frodo had his jaw clenched. He fisted his hands inside his pockets and walked away.

Pippin was about to call after him when Reg spotted him standing there and called him over. The boys decided they wanted to go check out the water mills real fast. Allie said she'd wait for them.

After Reg and Pippin left, she looked around and saw Frodo already walking away on the road leading into the woods. He was probably angry at her for yelling at him back there. Guilt sank into her stomach like a rock.

Feeling determined, she ran after him and caught up with him just before he could enter the woods. Frodo didn't need to turn back to know that she was the one who was walking behind him. After a while, he asked: "Why are you following me?"

Allie wet her lips and then ran in front of Frodo, blocking his path. Frodo stopped.

Allie watched him carefully as her fingers nervously tapped against her dress. "You are mad, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not," he answered in a neutral voice.

Her lips became a thin line as she pointed a finger to his chest. "Look at you frowning. You totally are." Her voice softened. "Look… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you."

Frodo could read the sincerity in her eyes but that made him feel even lonelier somehow.

Upon seeing his lack of response, she babbled: "I was feeling utterly embarrassed already and you had to say that about me eating fast."

Frodo walked past her. "Why would you feel embarrassed or angry? That's who you are, isn't it?"

Allie sighed and followed him. "Yes, but Reg just said seconds ago that he doesn't like fights. And you know I used to fight all the time when I got here."

"Still, that's who you are. Or are you saying that you are going to change for him?"

Allie scratched her head. "Well, that will be a lot of things to change, but I suppose I should be able to do it if I'm given some more time. I know that fighting is bad but I cannot help myself sometimes. Especially when I see those three idiots."

Frodo paused in front of a tree and Allie realized it was the one with her platform on it. "I have not come here in a long time," she noted, amazed. "You were still coming here?"

Frodo shrugged. "It is a good place when I want some quiet."

Allie smiled excitedly, seized the trunk and then climbed up quickly. The platform up among the branches was covered with fallen leaves, creating a natural green carpet on the wood. Allie went to unhook the satchel, but scrunched up her nose when she opened it. The food inside had gone bad a long time ago. It was time to throw it out.

Frodo followed her up the tree and sat there in silence.

Allie saw his closed face and crouched down beside him apologetically, hugging her knees.

"You should not try so hard for him," Frodo spoke up quietly. "If he really likes you, he should like you for who you really are."

At this, Allie suddenly laughed as though he had just told her a good joke. Frodo could only look at her in astonishment.

"Frodo," she said, still smiling. "Do not be silly. No one would ever like me for who I really am. I mean, look at me. I don't dress properly, I'm always dirty, I get mad easily and I'm not gentle like Rosie nor do I have perfect hair like Marigold."

She stopped herself, surprised at what she was saying. She wasn't aware these thoughts were inside of her. But it was the truth, was it not? She looked at Frodo's astounded face and played with her messy hair awkwardly. "I know that I just have to try harder to be like the others. That is the only way Reg or anyone else will ever like me."

Frodo didn't know how she could say such sad things so easily, as though she had already accepted them as the unchangeable truth. In spite of her light tone, the light of sadness in her eyes was unmistakable to him.

Suddenly, the words "_I could like you as you are now_" flashed through his mind. The impulse was so sudden and so strong that he almost blurted the words out.

He clenched his shirt at chest level to stop the thumping of his heart.

What was he thinking?

Allie chose that moment to shuffle closer to him and to grab hold of his hand, which he still had wrapped around one knee. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I really am. Don't be mad at me, all right?"

Her grey eyes, usually stubborn and determined, were now full of contrition. The touch of her hand on his suddenly felt like cold fire. He snatched his hand away and tried to swallow, but only managed to choke a little.

Allie bit her lip upon seeing him pull away in this fashion.

Frodo saw that the gesture had hurt her and felt terrible. He didn't know why he was acting this way, like a mad person.

To make up for it, he quickly patted her head and ruffled her messy curls. "I'm not mad, Allie. Don't worry. Besides, this is not the first time you yell at me for no good reason."

Allie smiled in relief upon hearing the teasing tone of his voice.

"Come on then, Reg and Pippin must be done visiting the water mill now."

Frodo nodded in agreement as he forced his heart to settle back into a normal rhythm. "Yes, let's go back."

* * *

**Where are you, Protector?**

A few miles away from where she resides. I am keeping an eye on her movements.

**Do not let your presence be known to her. She has awakened too early and now seeing you could constitute the final trigger. **

I understand. I will be careful.

**I am now sending Informant to relay you. I need you back for other affairs. War with those of the South now seems imminent. **

I will go back to you as soon as I see Informant. This kind of job is up his alley in any case. Do you want him to carry out the same orders?

**Informant will observe the she-hobbit. And when he gets the chance, he will dispose of her. **

Queen…

**Speak up.**

It has never been done this way before. You have marked a female, which entails…

**It was a mistake! It was not the Blood Call. **

There should be no mistakes. You are the Queen after all.

**Are you contradicting me? I was offset by that piece of clothing she had on her. It carried the scent of the male. It was simply a mistake. I should have killed her on the spot, but the Rules were set in motion the moment I drank her blood. Frustrating business, really.**

Mistake or not, the reality remains that she is a female. If she awakens completely, your life will be in peril.

**That is why I am telling Informant to kill her before it should happen. You shall not bring up this topic again, Protector.**

Please forgive me, Queen. As always, I am only trying to carry out my duty of protecting you.

* * *

Reg bought ten sticks of roasted chicken and brought them to Allie, who was waiting with baited breath on the side of the road.

"You look like a hungry dog," Reg teased.

Allie snatched five from him and ripped off the still hot meat with her teeth. "This is amazingly good."

"You are such a meat person."

"Lately, I have been craving meat a lot."

They walked leisurely around in the marketplace, looking around at all the activity going on.

It had been three weeks already since Reg had come to Hobbiton, and they had been spending most of their days together. They had set into a quiet pace of activities. Allie found that she was not as nervous with him as she used to be. She had stopped thinking too much about what all her feelings meant and was just enjoying the time they spent together.

That day, it was nearing the end of the afternoon and the sun was still hot. They headed towards the lake and sat down to cool their feet in the water.

"What is that hut over there?"

Allie looked towards where Reg was pointing and saw a hut erected at the border of the lake.

"It's supposed to be a place where fishermen store their tools, but folk here in Hobbiton are really scared of the water, so it's probably unused."

"Really? I think I see some hobbits over there though," Reg said as he shielded his eyes from the sun.

"It's probably just some kids playing. I have never seen anyone fish in…"

Suddenly, she stopped. Her flesh was resonating with every beat of her heart and she could clearly feel the sensation of her blood rushing to her every extremity, pulsing and rushing like a red wave.

Her vision zoomed in on the grass underneath her and suddenly she could distinguish every single blade with absolute clarity, as well as the ants climbing on them. An ant rubbed its antennae together and the sound of it was deafening to her ears.

She seized her head with both hands, breathed in deeply, and the phenomenon was gone.

This wasn't the first time that it happened. It had started about two weeks ago, and would occur when she least expected it. She thought it was probably because the sun was hotter than usual this summer and the heat was making her dizzy.

"Allie?" came Reg's voice.

"Huh?"

"I said, we should go. It is getting too hot."

"Yes…"

They walked along the lake, passing by the hut Reg had previously pointed out. There was indeed movement in its vicinity.

Allie was surprised to see it was actually the Lotho, Ted and Sancho trio, and they seemed to be torturing another unfortunate soul. Allie wondered whether they had nothing better to do all day than to bully other people. Lotho was pressing their victim's face against the ground as Ted and Sancho threw balls of mud at him from the lake shore. The victim was covered in so much mud already that it was hard to tell who he was.

"Now hand it over, loser!" Lotho was demanding.

Allie thought she should do something, but Reg was beside her and so the last thing she wanted was to start a fight with those three. To her surprise however, Reg didn't seem preoccupied at all by the scene unfolding by the hut.

She pulled on his sleeve. "Reg, shouldn't we do something?"

Reg blinked at the scene as though he had just seen it. "It is really none of our business. If we anger those bullies, they might target us next."

Allie refrained herself from saying that she was already one of their targets.

Reg flashed her a reassuring smile. "I see struggles like this all the time in Bree. They usually end up resolving themselves somehow. Don't worry. Let's just go."

Allie turned her back on the scene reluctantly. Her fists were itching to erase that hateful smirk off Lotho's face.

"Why are you holding on to that so tightly?" Lotho's mocking voice reached her ears. "Only a sissy would carry such a thing."

"Leave me alone," the boy seethed.

Allie twirled around.

"That voice… "

Reg stopped her by the arm. "Don't go bother them, Allie!"

Two seething grey eyes settled on him. "But it's Frodo!"

Consternation filled Reg's face. "What?"

Allie broke free of his grip and marched resolutely towards the group. Ted saw her coming, and for a moment, apprehension was evident in his posture. He nudged Lotho, who turned around. A frustrated sneer painted itself on his lips. "Why do you always have to come when things are just getting good? Are we unlucky or do you have some weird power that goes ding-ding whenever this loser is in trouble?"

"Get off him right now," Allie spat out each word in wrath.

Frodo lifted his face and saw Allie and Reg standing in front of him. His bright blue eyes stood out even more in a face smeared with mud. One of his cheeks was already clearly swollen.

Sancho kicked him again in the ribs and Frodo doubled over in pain.

"You bastard!" Allie thundered with her fist raised.

Suddenly, Reg stepped in front of her, facing the other three. "Please," he implored, "why are you doing this to him? Just let him go."

"And who are you?" Lotho mocked. "You must be another loser if you are friends with that wild child over there."

"Do you know them?" Reg asked Allie with one raised eyebrow.

"Does it matter right now?" Allie managed to get out through clenched teeth.

"What do you want from him? Why are you doing this to him?" Reg shouted to the trio.

"He's got something we want to see, isn't that right, Ted? Sancho?"

The other two agreed with a smirk and tried to push Frodo to throw him on to his back, but Frodo knelt tighter against the ground and refused to budge. "You insect!" Sancho seethed, and then kicked him again.

Allie's chest was heaving up and down rapidly. She threw a quick look at Reg and saw that he looked angry as well, but afraid to make a move. And wasn't he against fighting in the first place? At the sight of Frodo in the mud, a burst of anger exploded again in front of her eyes like a cloud of black flies. How dare they hurt Frodo like this?

"Just go!" Frodo suddenly yelled from his scrunched up position. "This has nothing to do with you. Go!"

Lotho laughed. "Listen to your master, wild child. You are not needed here!"

She clenched her first. "You dirty little…"

"Let's go," Reg muttered darkly.

"Are you serious?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Let's go and call some adults over. They will resolve the problem quickly!"

Suddenly, there was a cry of victory when Sancho finally managed to throw Frodo onto his back. Ted plunged down and twisted his wrist until Frodo let go of the thing he was holding with a cry of pain. Lotho picked it up with two fingers, a smug of disgust painted on his face, and waved it in front of Frodo's face.

"What on earth?" he laughed loudly. "What is this girly thing? No wonder you didn't want us to see it!"

Allie's eyes widened when she recognized the orange charm she had given Frodo for his exam. She thought he had thrown it away after that day. Why was he still holding on to it? Why was he…

Frodo leapt on his feet and threw himself at Lotho. "Give it back right now!" he howled angrily.

Lotho dodged him easily and pushed him on the ground again. "Stay down, loser!"

A second later, a kick to Lotho's right leg sent him falling onto his knees as an enraged Allie punched him in the face. Before he had time to recover his wits, she had snatched the charm away from his hand.

Ted came at her from behind and circled her waist with one hand. Allie thrashed violently but couldn't manage to pry him off.

Realizing she couldn't break free of his stronger hold, her anger went up another two notches. As last resort, she scratched the skin on his forearm with her nails. Ted let go of her with a groan and stepped back, holding his scratched arm.

She landed in front of Frodo on all fours and stayed in that position as she faced the three bullies, ready to pounce on the first one who would dare make another move.

Lotho was screaming at the other two to go teach her a lesson, but Ted and Sancho were both hesitating, their last defeat at her hands still fresh in their minds.

"Lotho, you coward," she growled low in her throat. "Come at me yourself if you want to fight."

Lotho brandished his fist and made two steps towards her, but the sight of her grey eyes blazing with cold fire and bloodlust stopped him short in his tracks. He thought she barely looked human as she bared her teeth and stared him down as though she wouldn't hesitate to tear him to pieces.

Gulping, he lowered his fist and put his hands in his pockets with a semblance of bravery. "Let's go, lads. It's not worth it."

Sancho and Ted were more than happy to comply.

"You!" Lotho pointed to Allie hatefully from a safe distance. "I will get back at you one of these days. You will not be winning forever."

Then, the three of them quickly walked away from the scene.

She stared hard in the direction they had disappeared into until Reg's horrified expression slipped into her field of vision. Blinking, she slowly stood up straight again and quickly wiped her muddy hands on the sides of her already dirtied dress.

"Reg…" she called out tentatively, pleadingly.

But Reg just shook his head a little and then left her there.

"Reg!" she called after him.

Behind her, Frodo coughed as he tried to push himself up into a sitting position. Allie felt her heart sink as she gave up on chasing after Reg and knelt down beside Frodo instead.

He tried to stand up and lost his balance once. Allie hurried to catch him by the arm, but he pushed her hand away, staring hard at the ground.

He tried to stand up again and this time succeeded. Holding his ribs, he started limping on the way home. Allie followed after him silently.

When Frodo's foot tripped on a rock, Allie hurried to stabilize him again before he could fall. Then, she forcefully passed his arm around her neck as she helped him walk. This time, Frodo didn't resist.

They walked like this in silence till they reached Bag-End. Bilbo was not home and they were both relieved by that. Neither wanted to see his worried expression nor to have to explain themselves to him.

They went into their respective bathrooms to clean off the mud on their bodies and to change into a new set of clothes. Frodo took longer because the bruises on his ribs ached every time he lifted his arm.

When he finally came out of the bathroom, he saw Allie standing there with a small pot in her hand.

"Sit down," she intimated him.

He tried to walk away but she caught his arm and dragged him, albeit carefully, to his bed.

"Sit down," she repeated.

Frodo glared at her but did as told. She sat down beside him and uncovered the lid. The pot contained cream made from parsley, which was good for healing bruises.

"Lift up your shirt."

"I can do it myself."

"Frodo, just lift up your shirt," she insisted more gently.

Frodo bit his lip and then slowly rolled up his shirt, revealing nasty looking red bruises on his ribs. Allie didn't make any comment as she dipped a finger into the cream and then started rubbing it onto the bruises. Frodo flinched a little at the coldness of the cream upon his burning skin.

Allie threw a brief glance at his set jaw. "You feel humiliated, don't you?" she asked in a low voice. "You feel like you have lost your pride by letting people see you in that position."

Frodo didn't answer but his eyes told her the truth.

"I used to feel that way too, all the time. You just have to become stronger so that you can put up a fight, so that next time it will be them covered in mud and bruises."

Frodo felt tears pick at his eyes and turned away.

She saw it and sighed deeply. "Why were you even fighting with them for such a thing? The charm is useless after the exam, you know?"

He didn't answer.

"If you really liked it, I could have just made you a new one. Why would you fight them for such a thing?"

"Should I just let them take away anything that's mine then?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

Allie's finger stopped rubbing circles on his ribs for a moment, before resuming the motion again.

"No," she agreed, "you are right. Those good-for-nothing lads really need to be dealt a lesson."

Frodo looked up. "Why did you do it? Why did you bother? I told you to leave!"

"And let them hurt you? Do you think I can really let that happen?"

"You were with Reg!" he yelled, and then flinched, because yelling hurt. "I saw the expression on his face after you chased Lotho's gang away. You told me you were determined not to fight when you were with him."

"That is that, and this is this," she said grumpily.

"No," Frodo said. "You need to set your priorities straight, Allie. Would you alienate Reg just to save me?"

"Yes."

Frodo felt his breath hitch.

She looked him in the eye. "The answer is yes, Frodo. If it was anyone else, I could probably let them be. But it was you, so I couldn't walk away."

Frodo slowly closed his hand on her wrist, stopping her motion of applying the cream.

"Why?" he asked softly.

She looked troubled for the first time. "Why, you ask me. I don't know. It's like asking why the sky is blue. It's just the way it is, for me."

He slowly let go of her hand. "I see."

Without looking at him, she added: "Although I suppose it is because I know you don't like to fight back. You probably have never hurt another on purpose because you are kind. Don't worry. I will do the fighting for you. Even if Reg hates it, I will protect you from those three idiots."

Allie finished applying the cream and covered the pot with the lid.

When she looked up again, she encountered Frodo's blue eyes. They were gazing at her intensely, charged with emotion. Her eyes widened when he seized her and drew her to him into an awkward hug.

The scent of the parsley cream invaded her nose as she found her face pressed against the bare skin of his shoulder.

"Thank you, Allie. I appreciate it," he was saying against her. "But I cannot let a lass fight and get hurt on my behalf. I will become stronger. I will fight my own fights and win them. Rest assured."

He let go of her then and she sat back, reeling a bit on her stead.

"I think Reg will understand," he added as he rolled down his shirt. "You were just helping out a friend after all. If he doesn't understand, then bring him to me and I will tell him myself."

She smiled at that. "Yes, he shouldn't be _that_ mad."

"He's probably still around. You should go find him and explain."

Seeing her worried expression, he smiled and added: "Don't worry. I'll be fine. I will just rest in my room."

"All right, I will go find Reg then."

"Allie?"

"Yes?"

He smiled softly and a little sadly. "Go get him."

She returned him a broad smile on the way out.

* * *

Allie made the tour of the neighbourhood and even stopped by Reg's house, but he wasn't anywhere in sight. The sun was setting now and Allie was hungry from wandering around.

She decided to call it a day and meet up with Reg tomorrow.

She was about to open the door to Bag-End when Bilbo beat her to it by opening it from the inside. He had his pipe in his hand and was probably about to smoke his usual evening leaf.

"Ah, Allie," he smiled kindly. "There is a young lad here to see you. He said his name is Reg."

"Reg is here?" she asked excitedly, feeling her hunger subside.

"He must be waiting for you in your room."

"Thank you, Bilbo!"

She rushed past him and sprinted down the hallways to her room giddily. She couldn't believe Reg had come to find her himself. Maybe things were not half as bad as she had imagined them to be.

She opened the door to her room and saw Reg standing there next to the window. The evening shadows were already invading the place, and Allie waited till her eyes grew accustomed to the dark.

"Reg!" she called softly.

Reg startled as he turned around. "Allie! I did not hear you coming in."

He moved away from the window and Allie joined him in the center of the room.

"Reg! I'm so happy you came. I want to…"

"Allie," he cut her off. "I have thought about it hard, and I don't think I can keep doing this."

"Doing… what?"

He sighed. "I know we have not said it explicitly but these last couple of weeks we have been dating, haven't we?"

"Well, I suppose so."

"I think I need some time to think things over."

Allie felt her heart start thumping really hard. "Why… all of a sudden?"

"I don't know. It's just that… you have changed. You were not like this before."

Her eyes filled with anger. "I know you don't like to see me fight, but I couldn't just ignore Frodo! And what do you mean, like this? I prefer "this" to the way you handle things. How can you turn your back to people getting hurt?"

Reg looked startled by her outburst, maybe even scared. "Allie, please calm down. What has gotten into you lately?"

"What has gotten into _me_?" she demanded. "You are the one who has changed. I did not remember you to be such a coward! I don't fight for the sake of fighting. I fight to protect those who are important to me. I would have done the same for you!"

Reg waved off her words. "Then why did you look like you were enjoying it so much when you were fighting those three lads?"

Allie felt disbelief wash over her. "Enjoying myself? What makes you think that?"

"For goodness' sake, Allie. You were grinning!"

The sun set completely outside the window, and the room became dark. Suddenly, she heard Reg drew in a sharp and shaky breath.

"Reg?"

"Y-y-your e-eyes…" he stuttered, backing away madly.

She touched one eyelid, but it felt normal. "What? What about them?"

Reg's shaking hand knocked the flower vase on her nightstand to the ground and the shattering noise made him yelp.

"Careful!" she exclaimed, walking towards him.

"Stay away!" Reg shrieked. "Don't come near me!"

For some strange reason, even though it was dark in the room, Allie could clearly see the look of horror and revulsion on Reg's face as he looked at her. That look alone sent needles piercing through her heart and made her freeze on the spot.

Reg, scared out of his mind, suddenly bolted towards the door and ran away.

Allie stood there in the middle of her room like a statue. Then, slowly, she turned towards where she knew her mirror was. When she saw her face in the reflection, she let out a cry of terror.

Her eyes were glowing.

They were glowing the way cats' eyes glowed in the dark.

She heard Frodo's bedroom door opening and knew he was coming her way. She couldn't let him see her like this. She couldn't let anybody see her like this.

Shielding her eyes with both hands, she stormed out of her bedroom, pushed past Frodo as he called out her name, and dashed madly towards the door. Once outside, she ran as fast as she could down the road, tripping against objects and fences because she refused to uncover her eyes.

She ran and ran for an indeterminate amount of time till suddenly her feet splashed into water. Through a crack in her fingers, she saw that she had reached the lake.

Slowly, she sank down on her knees in the water and sobbed as she clutched a hand to her heart.

The image of Reg looking at her as though she was some kind of freak refused to leave her mind. And she couldn't even blame him, because she _was_ a freak. Why were her eyes like that? What was happening to her?

Her blood pulsed.

"Not again… not now…" she whimpered.

She held her head in her hands and tried to slow down her breathing, but this time, it didn't work.

The pulsing continued, stronger and stronger.

She staggered to her feet, clutching at her head with both hands. She felt as though she had no control over her pupils; they were rolling in all directions at the same time, it seemed. The night sky, the grass, the trees, the lake, they took turns going into focus and out of focus again. She felt as though she was caught in a tornado of colors and shapes, and the motion was making her sick.

The sound of her heart beating was deafening to her ears.

Every pulse resonating inside her body seemed almost strong enough to blow her flesh apart. It was as though someone was banging against her skeleton from the inside, struggling to break free of her skin.

And then the vortex of images was too much; she saw the grass becoming closer and closer to her face and knew and she was falling forward. The pulses ripped through her flesh, exploding out of her pores.

She extended her arms in front of her to stop the fall but still ended up with her face in the grass.

The scent of earth that invaded her nostrils was so strong that it made her jerk her face away from the ground.

Panting madly, she felt relief at the fact that the pulsing seemed to have finally subsided. It had never been this strong before. For long seconds, she just remained in her position and waited still calmness flowed over her again.

Sighing, she saw the lake extending in front of her and crawled towards it on all fours with the intention of splashing water onto her face.

When she extended her head above the water, fear rushed through her. In the clear reflection of the lake, a wolf was looking straight at her.

_"Not again!"_ she thought fervently as she whipped her head back.

The space behind her was clear, however. There was no wolf looming behind her back. She was alone.

Something was wrong.

Slowly, she looked into the water again, and the wolf inside the lake looked back.

Her limbs were trembling. It couldn't be…

Feeling her sanity slipping away, she let out a scream of agony and terror, but all that came out of her throat was a long, haunted howl that rippled across the lake and echoed in the trees.

And all the living things who heard it cowered in fear.

* * *

Phew, long chapter there! So watcha think, watcha think, whatcha think? :p

**1945:** haha, for ages? I know, my chapters are pretty long! XD I know, I wouldn't kill off Allie cuz without her the story wouldn't go on! But who knows what might happen in the future? I haven't written the end for this fic yet lolol. Don't worry though, I'll refrain from making it too overly dramatic. No killing off major characters unless it's somewhat justified. Anywayz, your review made me super happy! I hope I'll hear more from you!


	23. Informant

**Informant**

The Bywater lake was calm, its waters regularly lapping onto the shores in small waves. Everything was quiet, and the half moon reflected on its surface occasionally rippled with small movements in the water.

A sudden activity from shore dispelled the image of the half moon, slicing it and wrinkling it. The head of a wolf appeared in the water, growling and baring its fangs at its own reflection.

After long minutes of staring at itself, it disrupted the image with its front paw and jerked away from the lake, silently scurrying towards the trees.

Allie's thoughts were turbulent and incoherent, and she didn't know whether it was from the shock of becoming a wolf, or whether from being in a body that was hardly human.

_Quiet. Calm_, she thought to herself.

Thinking was difficult; everything was too distracting: the sound of evening insects buzzing, the rustling of the leaves, the sounds of conversation drifting all the way from the Green Dragon, the sound of footsteps a few miles away. Everything was so clear and so _close_.

But the most distressing thing was her new sense of smell. She never knew the grass carried a scent, but it did. It had a strong and sweet earthly smell that drifted up from the ground every now and then. The bark smelled strong as well, and even the water from the lake had a metallic scent of iodine.

Every now and then, another kind of scent would reach her nostrils, and every time it did, she felt herself becoming more alert. It was an intoxicating smell; it was a smell that made her heart beat faster and her mouth salivate.

It was the smell of game, of living meat.

Carefully, she strode into the woods, her head swinging this way and that. She could feel the new muscles in her body roll, flexible and strong.

Unconsciously, she followed the scent of game, and suddenly saw a hare standing there beside its burrow. Allie froze and crouched low, ears erected, all her senses in alert. Her vision zoomed in until she could make out every single fur on the hare's back, as well as every single blade of grass surrounding the burrow.

Her muscles tensed.

_What am I doing?_ she thought as she jerked up straight.

The hare suddenly caught sight of her and leapt into the burrow in fright.

_Wrong. Wrong!_ she thought angrily at herself, _need to turn back. Somehow. Must be a way._

Her tail was frantically swiping the mossy forest floor as she tried to think of a way to turn back to being Allie.

Suddenly, she caught the scent of Frodo in the wind. She couldn't explain how she knew the smell pertained to him, but she was certain of it. Perhaps it was the smell of the parsley cream she had applied on his bruises a few hours ago. In any case, she could smell his progression as he slowly made his way down the road.

Her ears twitched; he was also calling out her name.

For a second, she felt like rushing to him, but then quenched that down. He'd probably run for his life if he saw her as she was now.

The only good thing was that he was not searching in the right direction. He was currently walking along the road that would take him to the platform on the tree, thus walking away from the lake. She should be safe here.

Maybe there was no way to turn back. Maybe she was stuck in this body for good now.

She put her muzzle in between her front paws as she lied down at the base of a tree, curled up into the smallest position she could manage.

Lots of strange and frightening sounds arose from the forest from time to time, making her jump up on her legs. It was probably absurd for her to fear anything in her current state, as she was on top of the food chain, but every single bone in her body was shaking with terror nonetheless.

* * *

Frodo panted as he leaned against the trunk of a tree. His bruises were aching again, and it was getting cold, but he had to find Allie.

Earlier, he had heard Reg and her fight in her room. Then, Reg had left in a hurry, and Allie had followed right after him. Frodo had caught a glimpse of her face as she had passed him by on the hallway; she was covering her eyes and her skin was ghastly white.

He had a bad feeling about it and had followed her out, but he hadn't been able to run very fast in his condition and had therefore lost sight of her.

He did end up catching up to Reg however, as the latter walked among the closing stands of the marketplace. When Frodo caught up with him and asked him what had happened, Reg was too frightened to say anything but: "Freak… she's a freak…"

"How can you say that?" Frodo hissed. "I thought you liked her!"

Reg shook his head rapidly, biting his thumb with a troubled gaze. "That is not Allie. I don't know what it is, but it is not the Allie I knew. Or perhaps she is being possessed by something. She has become…" he clutched Frodo's arm with all his strength. "Be careful too! You don't know what you are living with!"

At that, Frodo couldn't help himself.

He punched Reg in the face like he had wanted to do since the beginning.

"What are you talking about? Have you lost your mind?" he shouted. "Do you have any idea how much she liked you and tried hard to please you?"

Reg massaged his painful cheek, looking stunned. Then, he quickly turned on his heels and ran away.

"Wait!" Frodo called after him, but he couldn't run. He could only watch the other escape.

Well, that was that.

Frodo recovered his breath enough to resume his walking. He called out Allie's name again. She was probably somewhere by herself, crying.

"Reg, if I don't find her, I'm going to go find you instead," Frodo murmured to himself angrily.

He ended up in front of Bag-End again, and went inside the house. He sighed upon seeing Allie's room empty. Maybe it would be good to let her mourn for one night. Tomorrow he'd talk to her and try to convince her that Reg was not worth it and that she should forget him and get on with her life.

Bilbo intercepted him in the hallway, already wearing his pajamas and holding a candle in his hand.

"What is the matter, boy?"

Frodo told him everything in a subdued voice. Recounting the events made him angry all over again.

Bilbo sighed and put a comforting hand on Frodo's shoulder. "Go to bed. She will be back tomorrow."

"But…"

"I know she will."

Frodo nodded grimly and did as Bilbo said. Bilbo put down the candle on the kitchen table and stared outside the window, into the night. "The kids are already at this age, aren't they?" he murmured. "Time flies."

His hand plunged inside his pocket and caressed the cool and polished texture of the ring he always carried with him.

* * *

Allie slowly opened her eyes, awakened by the first rays of sunshine that managed to pierce through the green foliage of the trees. The morning wind was cold on her skin and she shivered, crossing her arms across her chest.

She looked down at herself and saw that she was back to hobbit form! The only problem was that she was completely naked.

Before she even had time to rejoice, a movement attracted her attention. She jumped up on her feet in fear when she saw a giant black wolf sitting there staring at her. He looked like a dog, except for his size and the harsh lines of his eye shape. His yellow irises bore into her intensely, but she didn't detect any malice nor intent to kill in them.

Actually, the wolf seemed almost curious as he gazed upon her figure.

Slowly, she stood up on shaky legs with her back to the bark, and wondered for how long he had been there staring at her sleep. If he had wanted to kill her, he had had many occasions to do so already. She had to believe that he wouldn't do anything to hurt her now.

_"Hello."_

She looked around vividly, but no one had spoken. It was just her and the wolf.

The wolf was still sitting down, swiping his tail a little on the grass_. "You can hear me."_

She startled again. The harsh voice seemed to be resonating inside her own body.

"Was that you?" she asked the wolf cautiously.

The wolf gave her a curt nod.

"It cannot be…" she whispered with a hand to her mouth.

The wolf's yellow eyes continued staring at her unblinkingly.

"What do you want?" she asked shakily.

_"I have been given orders to kill you, but I do not feel like carrying through with them." _

She tensed. "Who gave those orders?"

_"Queen."_

"Queen?"

The image of the red wolf who had attacked her suddenly flashed through her mind. The black wolf sat there placidly. Allie had the weird certitude that the wolf had just conveyed that image to her; so, not only could he send her words, he could also show her images?

"Why did she order that?"

_"Because you are the rival who arose from her mistake."_

"A rival? Me?"

_"You are in position to kill Queen. You will eventually be compelled to do it, or at least die trying."_

"No, I would never!" she cried out, shaking her head wildly. "I'm not crazy. How can I attack a wolf?"

_"It is the Rules. You will not be able to escape that fate. Sooner or later, your Blood and Queen's Blood will hunger for each other's and clash."_

She held herself close to stop the trembling.

"If the red wolf gave you the order to kill me, why am I still alive?"

The black wolf's tail continued swiping the grass at a steady cadence; right to left, left to right. "_You are the first of your kind, a rival born out of Queen's carelessness. It has never happened before. Not once. I am truly curious as to what your fate will be." _

Allie clenched her fist. "You will let me live just to satisfy your own curiosity?"

The black wolf parted his teeth, almost as though he was grinning. "_Yes."_

"Your leader will surely punish you for this!"

_"Queen is busy wrecking war with those of the South in order to expand the pack. Her ambition knows no bounds. She will not be preoccupied with us for a while."_

The black wolf stood up and glared at her intensely. "_It is too late for me to kill you now, even if I wanted to. You have already transformed. Your Blood has awakened, so I cannot touch you." _

He gave her his wolfish grin again. "We _shall see each other again."_

"Wait!" Allie cried out. "Do you have a name?"

One yellow eye peeked at her from amidst black fur. "_A name? It has been long forgotten. However, you can call me by my function: Informant."_

When the last echoes of the wolf's voice died down from within her body, the black wolf leaped into the woods faster than her eyes could follow.

Allie stood there, panting in shock and relief. She was still alive.

It was still early morning, so few hobbits were awake. She rushed through underbrush till she reached a farm. There, she quickly found a fabric that she wrapped around her naked body. Then, she quickly sprinted back home and locked herself in her room.

Her brain felt as though it would explode any second. So many things had happened, and there were so many questions in her head now. The pieces of the puzzle were floating all over the place in her head, in need of rearranging.

The world she thought she knew had suddenly shifted on its axis overnight.

* * *

**What did you just say?**

I said, she has already transformed.

**How can you let things progress to this stage? I told you to kill her beforehand! What have you been doing all this time?**

Nothing but my job, Queen. I have been gathering information.

**Informant, this is not the time for your games! Can you not comprehend how crucial this matter is to me? I trusted you to carry it out without fault, but you disappointed me beyond measure. I will not let you off the hook!**

I simply wanted to observe a little further. She is still like a newborn. You could finish her off easily whenever you want. 

**It is a given that she would never win against me. But on the off chance…**

There will not be an off chance. It is simply impossible. You have been undefeated up until now. I think it would be more amusing to watch you finish her off yourself. Would that not bring more satisfaction to you as well?

…

Well?

**You certainly have a way with words, Informant. Very well. I will see to that matter later and put an end to it myself. In the meantime, how about those of the South?**

They have retreated to their hideout in the South Downs. 

**Is that so? Good job keeping track of their movements.**

Not at all. My unit is the one efficiently relaying that information to me. The credit goes to them.

**How is our alliance with those of the North Moors? This coalition is crucial to win the war and assimilate the South.**

Protector is still negotiating with them. As you know, they are hesitant to participate, for they do not know what they can gain from it. If you win the war and kill the Queen of the South Downs, only our pack will benefit from the expansion.

**Those fools. The hyenas from the North are our common enemy. If our pack covers the entire Downs, we will be able to keep watch of the mountain passes whence they come from and fend them off. If we manage to do that, those of the North Moors will no longer need to fight them. We are offering them protection!**

I am sure Protector will manage to convince them. 

**He better.**

* * *

Allie jerked up on her bed when she heard the knock on her door.

"Allie? Are you in there?" came Frodo's voice.

She quickly ran in front of the mirror and double checked her appearance. No shiny eyes, no fur growing on her arms, no other abnormalities. There was only an alarmed and panicked lass staring back at her from the mirror; but at least she looked like a hobbit.

Frodo lifted his fist to knock again, when the door opened a crack and Allie's grey eye peered at him from the other side. "What?" she asked dryly.

Frodo tried to get a better look at her face but the slit wasn't big enough. "Are you all right? You didn't come home last night."

Her grey eye narrowed. "I'm fine."

Frodo scratched the back of his neck. "Well… good."

"Is that all?"

"Oh. Yes, I suppose."

Allie was about to close the door on him when he thrust his foot through the slit.

"Look," he said in a voice he wanted comforting. "I am aware of what happened with Reg. Can I come in?"

Allie frowned for a second, as though she had no idea what he was talking about, and then there was a flicker of remembrance. "Oh, Reg. I don't care about him anymore. I'm fine."

Frodo was dubious. "Are you really fine?"

"Yes," she answered immediately.

"Well… come out for breakfast when you are ready."

"I'm not hungry."

She tried closing the door again, and this time Frodo reluctantly removed his foot. Allie's eye flashed him a look he couldn't decipher before the door was closed in his face.

"Fine? How is that fine? You are still sad over it, you stubborn brat," he muttered to himself as he walked away.

Allie stopped plastering her ear against the door when she heard his footsteps fading. Heaving a sigh of relief, she quickly ran to the mirror again and checked her face. No shiny eyes, no fur. Good.

No, it wasn't good. She couldn't go on like this feeling so paranoid every minute.

She sat down on her bed, facing the window, and was determined to come up with a plan about what to do next.

First of all, she ran the conversation she had with Informant again in her mind, being careful to take note of some key words.

There was a Queen in the pack of wolves; she was probably the leader, and the one who made the decisions. She was also the one who bit her in Buckland, but just as she had thought, the Queen shouldn't have bitten her that day. According to Informant, Queen had made a grave mistake, a mistake that has never been made before. As a consequence, that bite had not only turned her into a wolf, but had made her a rival to the Queen.

Informant said that it was her fate to fight with Queen someday, and that she had the potential to kill her. What did that mean? Did other wolves not have the potential to kill the Queen then? Why would that be? Informant the black wolf was in all ways bigger than Queen, the red wolf. Allie thought he should have no trouble overpowering her in a fight.

No… she was missing something. Informant had also said something about rules.

Rules?

There were probably some rules among the pack. Maybe one of the rules was that Informant couldn't touch the Queen, who was higher in hierarchy. But why not? What would happen if he tried?

She shook her head. Thinking in that direction would only result in a dead-end. She did not have enough information to begin to understand the hierarchy and social order of those creatures.

The mistake.

She had to know why the Queen biting her was a mistake. Was there something inherent to herself that made her a candidate to be a rival? How could the Queen predict this in advance so as to avoid attacking her, then?

She thought back to the day of the attack.

Her eyes widened. Maybe it wasn't her that the Queen was targeting that day. The only other person with her there was Frodo. If Frodo was the target, how could the red wolf have mistaken them? She remembered that her five senses had been enhanced when she was a wolf. There was no way Queen would have made that mistake.

But she had been wearing Frodo's jacket!

Maybe that, combined with the fact that it was raining, had momentarily confused Queen's sense of smell. Yes, that made sense. She was never meant to be bitten in the first place.

Suddenly, she wondered whether they were still after Frodo, in that case. Was he in danger?

She didn't want him to become like her.

"Now is not the time to be worrying about other folk", a voice in her head murmured. The voice was right. Her condition was serious. At this rate, she didn't know when she would be turning into a wolf again. What if it happened when there were a lot of people around? Then everyone would witness what a monster she had truly become.

She needed to prevent that from happening at all costs. She needed to try and control the transformation.

She didn't want Frodo and Bilbo to know she was going out, so she opened her window and jumped out from there. Crossing the garden silently, she jumped over the fence and silently ran in big strides till she reached the woods.

Looking around to make sure she was alone, she took in a deep breath and searched herself. She didn't feel anything out of the ordinary. Could she really invoke the pulses on purpose?

She tried jumping around, throwing herself on the grass, thinking maybe she'd transform in mid-air, but nothing happened.

Disappointed, she lied down on the grass and reached out a hand towards the clouds passing overhead. Why did her life become so messed up again?

_"It is the Blood."_

She jerked up straight, and there was Informant, sitting there on the ground wearing his now familiar wolf grin.

"Can you stop doing that?" she exclaimed.

_"If you were any good, you would have sensed me coming from miles away."_

"I'm sorry if I am horrible at being a wolf," she retorted sarcastically.

_"But you have come here to learn, have you not?"_

Informant was no longer grinning; his yellow eyes seemed to bear into her soul. She gulped, suddenly regretting her tone as she wondered whether she had crossed a line with this creature.

Informant slowly circled around her, his huge paws shuffling on the grass without a sound. Allie felt exposed and vulnerable, trembling at the aura of power that emanated from the black wolf.

_"Let the Blood talk to you."_

"The Blood?" Somehow, Allie knew that there was a capital B in there.

_"The Blood of wolves that now runs through your veins. It is the center, the origin, the source of all life. Listen to it and let it guide you."_

"How… how am I supposed to do that?"

_"Let your mind go. Throw away your thoughts of fear and doubt. Throw away the past, the future, the what-ifs. There is only the present. There is only now."_

Allie glanced at Informant one last time, and then closed her eyes, breathing deep.

_"Open your senses. Open them wide to everything around you. The earth, the air, the sun, the invisible moon."_

Informant's voice was resonating through every fiber of her being like thunder, filling every space.

_"Follow the sound of your heart beating. Your heart is the organ spreading the Blood. It is the organ of absolute power. It is the organ that will give life not only to you, but to everything connected to you through the Blood." _

Allie could now hear her own heart beating loudly in her ears, like a drum. At every beat, she imagined her blood being pumped out of her heart, rushing through her arteries and veins like a river without a dam, reaching every cell in her body.

Heart beat, blood rush, heart beat, blood rush.

The cycle became faster and faster.

Her heart no longer seemed to be beating in her chest, but seemed to have expanded to encompass everything. Her entire being was pulsing. Stronger and stronger. For a frightening second, she thought she herself had become a giant heart that contracted and relaxed.

And suddenly, the blood inside of her seemed to come alive. In her mind's eye, she saw a sea of bloody miniature wolves erupting out of her heart and running along her veins, growling and baring their fangs.

Her eyes snapped open and met the eager gaze of Informant.

She could see herself reflected in Informant's dilated pupils. She was bent over, baring her teeth so hard her gums were visible. But the most shocking sight was that of her bones protruding out of her body at unnatural angles, stretching her skin. Her spinal cord was elongating and her vertebrae jutted out of her back in a gruesome way.

She blinked.

When her eyelids glided open again, Informant's head was now much closer; and in place of the hobbit, there was now a smaller wolf with golden fur standing on trembling legs reflected in Informant's eyes.

The black wolf's grin reached his ears.

"You have done it!_"_ His rough voice echoed through Allie's mind with the clarity of a bell chime. She hadn't realized how muffled his voice actually was when he spoke to her when she was in her hobbit form.

She opened her mouth and tried saying something, but only a weak whine came out.

"You have succeeded this time, but a lot of work remains to be done, Informant continued. "You have to practice until transforming becomes as natural as breathing, running and killing game."

She tried talking again, but failed for the second time.

Informant grinned at her amusedly. "What is it, little whelp? Are you speechless?""

Allie growled.

"Informant!" she thought the words with all her might instead, staring into his yellow eyes. "Informant! Can you hear me?"

The black wolf grinned.

"Yes, I can."

* * *

Frodo was moodily throwing pebbles inside the lake with Pippin by his side doing the same thing.

"This summer has been horrible!" Pippin finally said out loud, and threw his pebble hard.

"I must have seen Allie once ever since I came here," he continued grimly. "She is totally avoiding us, isn't she? It's really no fun at all."

Frodo watched his pebble sink in the water. It had been a week since he had last talked to her from across her bedroom door. She had said she was fine, but not showing her face to anyone was not at all in the definition of fine. She must still be really depressed about Reg.

Speaking of the latter, Frodo had actually gone to his house again to ask him to go apologize to Allie and perhaps even make up with her, but it was his uncle who had answered the door, and he had said that Reg had decided to return to Bree early.

"That wimp," Frodo muttered, throwing another pebble in.

Voices of conversation drifted to him from behind. He turned around and saw Rosie and Marigold walking together and chatting as they ate some strawberry with cream. Marigold saw him and smiled widely.

She whispered something to Rosie and then both girls came to join Frodo and Pippin by the lake.

"What is the matter? You two look down," Marigold inquired.

"Rosie, have you talked to Allie recently?" Frodo asked.

"No, I have not seen her in a while. But, I heard…" she frowned. "That Reg! If I knew he were so much trouble, I would not have encouraged her to go after him. I thought that since they were childhood friends, at least it would never go terribly wrong, but now…"

Marigold was nodding sympathetically. "I heard the story too," she said quietly. "This is terrible."

"I have barely seen her face for an entire week, even though we live together," Frodo frowned.

"Really?" Rosie was worried now. "Is she locking herself up in her room?"

"No. She actually goes out every day, but I have no idea when she leaves or when she comes back."

Rosie cocked her side to the side. "Is that so? Well, perhaps she just wants some time alone. But to be frank, I am surprised she hasn't come to me to talk about it. She used to tell me everything when she was dating that lad."

That day, when Frodo went home and had dinner with just Bilbo (again), the latter finally asked him what was up with Allie. "I have not seen her face in a long time. Is she feeling all right?"

Frodo swallowed his soup. "Don't know."

Bilbo's face was grave. He was actually very worried about her; it didn't even feel like she was living with them anymore. He worried about whether she was eating all right. She hadn't had her meals with them for a while now.

After dinner, Bilbo took out an envelope and handed it to Frodo.

"What is this?" his nephew asked.

"A letter. You do remember that story about the dragon that I told you and Allie, don't you?"

Frodo nodded, eyes wide.

"Well, Gandalf the Wizard wrote me that he's planning to visit me soon." Bilbo's eyes sparkled at this. "The last two times he visited me here, he always came unannounced. I called him out on that many times, and this time he finally remembered to forward me a letter first. He asked me to set a date and to leave my letter for him at the Prancing Pony, in Bree."

Frodo felt his excitement stepping up with each word his uncle was uttering. "So! I will get to see a real Wizard?"

"That's right, my boy."

"That is the best news I have heard in a long time!"

Bilbo winked. "That is not all. I know you have always wanted to go on a little exploration out of the Shire. So, how about you go deliver this letter to Bree for me?"

Frodo blinked, unsure whether he'd heard right. "Me? Go to Bree?"

Bilbo nodded with a sparkle in his eye. "That is right. I want Allie and you to go together, since she has said she wanted an adventure as well. If you see her around, do ask her if she would still be interested."

Frodo was now so excited he couldn't keep seated. Hopping a little on his feet, he agreed eagerly. "I will do it! I will go find her right now!"

Bilbo laughed at his enthusiasm. "Good. Good."

Frodo was determined to find Allie right this instant, even if he had to turn over every stone of Hobbiton. This piece of news just couldn't wait. He was sure that it would lift Allie's spirits as well. She needed some serious distraction from this whole Reg fiasco, and what better way to do that than to have a little adventure of their own?

He had always wanted to go to Bree together with her. After all, Bree was her hometown and she knew it like the back of her hand. She could show him around after they delivered Bilbo's letter to the inn.

He was running so fast that he tripped on the steps outside of Bag-End and ended up face first in Sam's newly planted flowers.

"Oww!"

He slowly sat up on the ground, massaging his scratched elbow.

Suddenly, he detected movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning to look, he saw Allie jumping out of the window of her room and landing silently in the garden. She looked around carefully and Frodo lowered his head out of reflex.

When he looked up again, she had already jumped over the fence and was leaving down the road. Scurrying to his feet, he rushed to the gate, pushed it open and quickly followed after her.

Allie was marching quickly, passing by the marketplace without stopping.

Frodo followed her at a small run from a few miles back, eyes set on her light hair shimmering under the last rays of sunshine.

He saw her entering the woods and quickened his step. He was truly curious now as to her behaviour. She didn't look as depressed as he had thought her to be. There was something else in her face that he couldn't decipher.

After entering the woods himself, he looked around for a second, wondering where she had gone to. He didn't notice the unusual silence that reigned among the trees.

Walking straight ahead, he came upon a clearing.

Suddenly, Allie's blonde head was right there in front of him. He quickly dropped to all fours and then silently crawled to the line of undergrowth lining the side of the clearing. There, he crouched low and observed her.

She was staring straight ahead, unmoving. Frodo tried staring in that direction as well, but only saw trees. Allie turned a little and he managed to see her profile.

She seemed pensive as she chewed on her cheek, tapping her fingers on her forearm.

Was she waiting for someone?

After five minutes passed by and there was no change in their situation, Frodo let out a discreet sigh. He was about to stand up to reveal himself and go talk to Allie about Bilbo's letter, when Allie suddenly moved.

She marched towards the base of a tree and let something – a piece of clothing – drop at its base. Frodo frowned. Why had she brought an extra shirt with her?

Then, she positioned herself in the middle of the clearing, moved her neck around a few times and then stood still with her eyes closed.

Frodo went back to his crouched position.

Just what on earth was she doing?

He waited in silence, staring at her with one arched eyebrow. Was this another game? Somehow it didn't seem that way.

Perhaps he should just call out to her.

"A…" he started.

Allie's eyes opened wide.

Frodo felt all the hair on his arms stand on edge. Even from this distance, he could see the way her pupils had become vertical slits.

Her name died on his lips.

She seemed to be smiling now. Except it wasn't a smile; it was as though her mouth was stretching upwards and backwards on her cheeks, revealing her teeth. Her entire head seemed to be disfiguring as her nose started protruding and her canines started growing longer and bigger.

Her blonde hair was set loose all around her and started to cover her face, her back, her arms.

Her body grew in size, making the clothes she had on her tear with a snapping sound.

And then she was leaping forward, as though tearing into space. She fell onto her arms that were not arms anymore, and then suddenly, where Allie stood a second ago, there was a wolf with gold fur in her place.

It had all happened within seconds, and during those seconds Frodo had forgotten how to blink and how to breathe.

Before his shock could die down and his brain could unplug, Allie… the wolf… he didn't know anymore, suddenly whipped her head in his direction.

In two giant strides, she was tearing through the undergrowth and towering above him.

Frodo felt his heart lurch to his throat and his mouth open in a silent cry. The wolf's grey eyes were unmistakably Allie's. The intensity and expression in them was more than familiar to him. It didn't feel like a wolf staring at him at all, it felt like it was Allie. Except somehow it was not Allie anymore.

Those grey eyes now showed the highest degree of desperation, as though her world had just crumbled under her legs after being discovered by him.

"A-Allie…" he managed to croak out in a trembling voice.

Allie was now backing away, her head swinging this way and that, her ears plastered against her elongated skull, her eyes not leaving him.

Frodo didn't know how he mustered the courage to stand up and extend a hand to the golden wolf.

"Allie… wait… "

The wolf froze, her ears perking in his direction as her tail swiped the ground in slow, uncertain waves.

"I…" he whispered through the thumping in his heart. "I don't know what's going on but… it's… it's all right. D-don't go. I'm not… scared of you."

At this, the wolf raised her head a little, her grey eyes brimming. Carefully, she made a step forward.

Frodo couldn't help himself: he made a step back.

Upon seeing this, the wolf's eyes suddenly narrowed.

_Liar!_ – her gaze seemed to scream – _liar!_

Planting her legs on the ground and tail erected high, she bore her fangs at Frodo and growled loudly, shaking him to the bones.

Then, she turned and bounded out of view in a slur of fury.

Frodo sank down on his knees and put a hand against his chest, panting as though he had just run a marathon. He stayed in his position until the sun set and night fell, as remorse and fear battled it out inside of him.

* * *

Three days later found Frodo lying down on the side of a hill, staring up at the sun through his outstretched fingers. A pebble was hurting his back, so he turned sideways and made it roll away absent-mindedly.

There was the sound of someone sitting beside him and then Sam's voice asked: "What are you doing here, Mr. Frodo?"

"I don't know."

Sam stared down at him through worried hazel eyes for an instant, and then carefully set down his bag of gardening tools. "I haven't seen you for awhile. Mr. Bilbo said his garden is looking perfect these days, so I have been doing work on other folk's gardens. The old lady down the road has a batch of honeysuckles, and they smell real good!"

He eyed Frodo's face for a reaction, but his gaze remained vacant.

"Are you all right, Mr. Frodo?"

"I don't know, Sam."

"You don't know?" Sam frowned and then scratched the top of his head in confusion. "Well, at least it's not "I'm not all right". Say, now that I think about it, I haven't seen that wild lass Allie for a while. What is she up to?"

Frodo tensed at the mention of her name. "I don't know!" he stated curtly for the third time before walking away.

Sam stared at his retreating back in shock. "What has gotten into him?"

Frodo's jaw was set in a firm line as he walked around aimlessly. He felt so angry about everything. He normally managed to calm down quickly whenever something upsetting happened, but the look of betrayal in the golden wolf's eyes after he had backed away refused to leave his mind.

"You knew it was Allie in there. You knew it! Why did you show fear? Why!"

He clenched his teeth and shoved his hands in his pocket, hard. His right hand brushed against something, and he took out the charm that Allie had given him.

He watched it dangle in front of his eyes for a second before shoving it back into his pocket. Why was he still holding onto that thing? He was such a foolish hobbit. He didn't understand himself these days.

In any case, it was probably all over. He knew Allie hadn't returned to Bag-End ever since he'd seen her transform. It wouldn't be surprising if she chose to leave this place altogether to never return.

He couldn't handle the thought of that.

How was he going to break the news to Bilbo? Will his uncle even believe him?

He couldn't believe it himself.

He needed to think.

There was something else in his pocket. His hand closed on it and revealed Bilbo's letter. The envelope was already crumpled, and Frodo thoughtfully straightened it up.

He should go to Bree by himself.

The trip would give him time to think and accept everything.

* * *

Allie coursed through the countryside, cutting through the wind. She had realized that running like this at top speed was the only way to stop her string of thoughts.

It had been three days since she was in wolf form; the longest yet to date. Usually, she would revert back to hobbit form whenever she fell asleep, but not this time.

This time, whenever she was about to go to sleep, she told herself fiercely beforehand to stay as she was.

And it worked.

The Blood was listening to her.

Three yards in front of her; a tree. Near the base of the tree, a squirrel. Her vision zoomed in.

In a golden flash, she was pouncing on her prey.

The squirrel let out a shrill yelp upon sensing the danger, and started to climb up the trunk at lightning speed. However, Allie was faster. She leaped up in mid-air and closed her jaw on the squirrel's body. Upon landing, she shook her prey this way and that for a second, before closing her teeth on its furry chest and crushing its bones.

Then, she started eating. The meat was fresh and tender, as she felt the last pulses of life die down within the rodent.

She still remembered the first time she had killed a prey. That time, she had been too hungry, and her body had moved on its own. After engulfing the hare and feeling somewhat satiated, she had felt remorse and disgust at her act.

But not anymore. She was a wolf now. There was no other life to turn back to.

If even Frodo looked scared to death upon seeing her, she could only imagine how the other hobbits would react. She would probably have reacted the same way. She was nothing but a fearsome creature to them now.

It was best if she stayed away from them all. Perhaps she should even leave this place. She was nervous at the prospect of encountering Informant's pack. His words about her fated clash with the Queen kept resonating within her, chilling her to the bones.

She could not stay here and risk encountering the red wolf. And she certainly could not go back to Bag End either. There was no place where she belonged now. She was alone in this forsaken world. Again.

She slowly licked the blood off her muzzle, and then cleaned up her paws as well.

Suddenly, a familiar scent drifted down the wind to her nostrils.

She crossed a few hills swiftly and peered down at the road.

And there, she saw Frodo walking alone, with a saddle-bag at his hip. Her grey eyes followed him for a while.

_What is he doing so far from Bag-End? Has he run away from home?_

Silently, she followed after him from the woods bordering the road.

He walked towards the North for one entire day, and upon reaching the Great East Road, veered direction to the East.

_It looks like he really is running away from home. He's even leaving the Shire! _

Her ears flicked a little in confusion. It could be dangerous for a hobbit outside the Shire.

She left him be and continued hunting for game in the surrounding areas, but unbeknownst to even herself, she always unconsciously kept track of Frodo's scent every now and then.

After the fourth day of walking, Allie realized Frodo was heading into Bree.

She stopped on top of a hill and watched him disappear inside the town's gate.

* * *

There you go! :p I got the next chapter written too so I will post that over the weekend! I hope you all liked this one! It's been awhile since I got 3 reviews for one chapter, so I was really, reaaaaaaally happy. Thanks guys!

**riddlemethis:** awww my gosh, that is so nice of you! I hope this chapter was also up to par with the others! I'm having more and more fun writing this too. I've got plenty of other ideas in store, hehe. So glad you liked it. Hope to hear more from you!

**1945:** I always get so excited when I get a review from someone who's reviewed before, LOL. It makes me happy you are really following this story now. Yeah, Reg is kind of always on his high horse, that much is true. Allie's real ordeal will come up on the next chapter though! I can't wait for you to read that! In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this one! :)

**Wicken25:** woah, first review from you, I'm so happy! Yes omg, your scenario is partly true, but there will be some other twists and turns before Gandalf comes along. The Fellowship part will be part three of the story. Right now, everybody is still pretty young. Allie is 11, turning 12. Frodo is 13 turning 14 soon. Well, in the movie Frodo is younger when he sets out (I mean, he didn't look 33 to me at the very least), but that's probably the only major difference in age between the movie and the book. After that, the things that happen are about the same. But how will that change if Allie is around though? Wait & see, wait & see :p

Ok guys, have you seen the last Harry Potter movie? I saw it yesterday... it was so good! But now I'm soooo sad it's over :(:( Well, not as sad as when LotR ended, but still pretty sad. I want more HP!

-Sunset


	24. Death Match

**Death Match**

Allie was standing on the rocky cliffs behind Bree, close to where the town cemetery was. She sniffed the wind and managed to make out Frodo's scent in the city; however, there were too many other smells floating around that interfered with her tracking.

_What is he doing here?_

Finally, she made a decision and zigzagged among the razor sharp boulders till she made it to the limits of town. She sneaked into the stable adjacent to the nearest farm. The animals all grew restless as she approached; the chicken ran away in a cacophony of cries, the goats bleated madly, and the horses stomped their hooves against their stands, restless.

Allie ignored them and tensed her body as she forced the Blood to recede. She felt it inside of herself like a tide going out. She opened her eyes and found herself on her hands and knees on the floor of the stable, completely naked as usual.

Her gaze travelled in a circular trajectory and spotted a dark cloak in the corner. She knocked it against the wall of the barn a few times to dust it off, and then wrapped herself in it.

Then, she sneaked out silently into the streets of her hometown.

* * *

Frodo was looking at the town of Bree in amazement. He felt as though he was wandering into a giant's land where everything was twice as big.

He quickly jumped to the side when a cart much higher than him pulled by two horses rushed past him and out of the gate of Bree. Feeling the hands in his pockets tremble in both excitement and apprehension, he stepped over the door frame and into town.

Evening was already falling and everywhere there were shadows dancing on the cobble stone streets. He almost stopped breathing when he saw the Big People walking by. Feeling stared at, most of them glared down at him in an unfriendly manner before moving past.

Frodo tried to stop staring as he continued walking along the stone walls of the buildings.

The stories of Bree that Allie had told him flashed through his mind in a second; he turned to look at the walls, and indeed there were posters of thugs posted there. The men in the pictures looked crude as they flashed him unpleasant smiles. At the bottom of every picture was printed the word WANTED in capital letters.

He shuddered and pushed past.

His heart pounded excitedly when he saw the sign of a pony standing up on its rear legs.

"The Prancing Pony! Finally!"

He pushed the door open and a bell chimed.

"Welcome!" came a strong and warm voice.

A few minutes later, he was already done delivering the letter to Butterbur, and was now out of the inn again, a sense of accomplishment and pride in his chest. Evening was already falling, so maybe he should just get a room at the inn and save visiting the town for the next morning.

Unbeknownst to Frodo, he was being watched.

A few feet away from the entrance to the Prancing Pony, a hobbit lad nudged Reg's arm while pointing at Frodo coming out of the Prancing Pony.

"That a newcomer?" The boy asked Reg.

Reg's eyes narrowed in recognition. "Frodo?"

"Oh, you know him?"

Reg slowly uncrossed his arms. He hadn't forgotten the pain of being punched by him. "What is that Shireling doing here? And look at him prancing around so happily. He's got no clue how dangerous Bree can be, huh?"

Reg's friend smirked. "Shall we play a prank on him?"

Reg's brown eyes smirked in response.

"What about Lena? Aren't we waiting for her?"

Reg shook his head. "I have a score to settle with this fellow. It's got nothing to do with Lena, so don't get her involved."

Reg pushed himself off the wall and walked resolutely towards Frodo; he smiled when he saw the other's blue eyes widen considerably.

"Hello, friend."

"I'm not your friend," Frodo replied coldly.

"Why are you being so cold?" He passed his fingers through his hair, looking contrite. "I came here to apologize, you know? I know I did wrong last time. I feel so bad for Allie. Is she with you?"

Frodo looked at him uncertainly for a second before shaking his head.

"Really? So what are you doing in Bree?"

"I came here to deliver a letter from my uncle."

"Long journey, eh? I bet you are starving now. It's almost dinner time." He passed an arm around Frodo's neck and guided him away before Frodo could place a word.

Heading inside one of the dark alleys, Reg resumed: "There is a good place for hobbits to eat. All my friends are already there. Why don't you join us tonight?"

Frodo blinked. "I guess I could."

Reg smirked. "Come on then. Let's hurry."

They walked along the somber alleys, turning right and then left at various intersections. Soon, Frodo had completely lost track of where they were.

"Are you sure there are inns this way?"

"It's just for hobbits," Reg's laughing voice answered. "The Big People don't like to see it, so we built it a little bit far from the main street. We are almost there."

Reg walked ahead of him and turned at the corner. Frodo looked at the moist walls they were passing by apprehensively. He quickly turned the next corner as well but the alley in front of him was empty. He looked back, and that side of the alley was empty was well.

"Reg?" he screamed out.

His voice echoed gloomily against the walls. Frodo looked around in alarm.

"Reg! Where are you?"

He ran back from where he came from, yelling out for Reg all the while, feeling panic set in. After fifteen minutes of wandering, he had to face the truth. Reg, that little bastard, had deserted him, and now he was all alone in the dark alleys with no idea to where the exit was.

Every dark alley looked the same.

And then, he came across a group of human teenagers. The three Big People stared him down when he asked them for directions to get out of the maze of alleys.

The one who looked like the leader smiled a little. "How much are you going to pay us for the information, Halfling?"

Frodo licked his lips nervously; he shouldn't have spoken to these people.

"Let's go easy on him," another human teenager said. "We are just asking for two silver coins!"

Two silver coins? That was enough for Frodo to sleep at the inn for a week. However, his situation right now was dire, so he begrudgingly took out the little bag where he kept the five silver coins Bilbo had given him.

The other people's eyes widened at the sight of all that money.

Suddenly, without warning, one of them seized Frodo by the arms while the others snatched the money bag from his hands. The leader weighed the bag on his palm with a sly smile of satisfaction.

"Give it back!" Frodo yelled, trying to lurch towards him.

The teenage boy restrained him easily with a deprecating laugh.

"Are you trying to pick a fight with us, Halfling?" The leader approached his face and pulled Frodo by the hair to stare at him.

Frodo looked at him angrily and then spat on his face.

Letting out a cry of rage and disgust, the leader backed off and wiped his face on his sleeve. His eyes had turned savage now. "You really shouldn't have done that."

He gave the other two a discreet signal, and then there were fists and kicks flying everywhere in Frodo's field of vision. The hits were painful and yet dull at the same time.

As he curled up on the cold cobble stone of the alley and let the other three beat him up, he had the feeling that this was happening to someone else. He felt detached about everything. During those seconds when the blows rained on him, all he could think about was that time at the clearing when he had stepped back from the golden wolf. This might be his punishment.

A blow landed on the side of his head and he felt a sharp pain, followed by the sensation of blood running down the side of his cheek. Were they going to kill him?

The stones on the pavement under his crouched form started to blur.

Suddenly, the blows stopped.

"Who are you?" the voice of the leader rang in his ears as though through a veil of cotton.

The last thing his brain registered before he lost consciousness was the image of a figure all in dark cloaks standing in the middle of the alley.

The figure didn't answer, but eyes were staring at them harshly from the depths of the cloak. The leader walked forward and snickered when he realized he towered over the figure by a good head. "Are you lost, kid? Looking for your mama?"

Suddenly, the figure jerked the cloak away from itself and threw it at the face of the human. The boy let out an angry squeal, and quickly clawed at the fabric to get it off his face. As he fought with it, his two minions started shrieking in terror from behind him.

There were sounds of bodies hitting the ground, and the cries of anguish doubled in intensity. Finally, the leader managed to free himself from the cloak.

What he saw, however, made him fall on his behind as blood drained from his face.

His two human friends were crawling on the ground, and towering above them stood a large beast with glistening silver eyes. The beast turned its furry head in his direction and growled deeply from the back of its throat.

The leader jumped back on his feet and ran away on the narrow alleyway, screaming in terror. His two minions hurried to do the same, shrieking and sobbing.

When all was quiet again, the wolf paddled silently to where Frodo lied on the floor, immobile. It pushed him with its muzzle and turned him on his stomach. Frodo's face was half covered in blood and more was flowing out from a wound in his head.

Slowly, the wolf bent down its head and started licking the blood off him. After a few minutes of licking at the wound, it finally stopped bleeding.

The wolf stared down at Frodo's face intently, and then touched its nose to his cheek repeatedly, but Frodo didn't wake up.

The wolf circled around him a few times and finally closed its teeth on the collar of his shirt; subsequently, it started dragging Frodo's body along the deserted alleyway. Sometimes, a ray of moonlight managed to shine across the buildings and reach the alley, illuminating patches of golden fur on the wolf's back.

Finally, the wolf stopped dragging its load as they reached a dead-end. The wolf let go of Frodo's shirt at the base of the wall and gently nudged his face again, but Frodo's eyes remained closed.

The wolf's grey eyes were worried.

After a second of hesitation, it went to lie down beside Frodo, warming him up with its fur. It put down its head on its front paws and wrapped its tail around the both of them.

* * *

The next morning, Allie walked out of the city, being careful not to be seen. It was still early and therefore the streets were mostly empty of people. She easily eclipsed herself from the center of town and made for the mountains instead.

When the scent of hay, smoke and people faded somewhat, she allowed her senses to relax.

Walking around aimlessly, she kept worrying whether it had been all right to leave Frodo alone. When she had felt him stirring awake, she had freaked out and left in a hurry. She couldn't stand to see that look of horror in his eyes again.

Ever since she had started transforming into a wolf, she always knew at the back of her mind that the day would come when people would find out. She had been prepared to be hated and to be cursed at again; she had already experienced that, so she could handle it.

However, the fear she could smell emanating from Frodo's body that day, along with that look on his face, hurt more than she anticipated. She could have handled anyone else hating her – really anyone else – but she couldn't stand it if it was Frodo.

She had only realized this now.

And that is why she wanted to cut ties with him, so that she never had to see how scared he was of her again. In order to do so, she wanted to leave him alone to his own matters. And yet, and yet, she couldn't help following him to Bree, and when she saw those humans hurting him, she couldn't _not_ intervene.

She kept thinking that maybe he didn't hate her that much. Even if she was a monster now, maybe he could grow not to hate her one day. She shook her head briskly to get rid of those hopeful thoughts. Being hopeful was unlike her; she should just expect the worst like she always did.

But – the small voice in her mind said – the last time you did that, you really misunderstood him. After he closed the door on you and refused to go back to Buckland with you, you ran away, convinced that he hated you, when in reality his reason not to go back had nothing to do with you. And he closed the door because he didn't want you to see him cry. It was all a misunderstanding. You swore not to misunderstand him anymore.

However, this time it was different, wasn't it? How could anyone accept her as she was now? How could anyone not think of her as an aberration? Even she herself thought so.

Allie stopped walking and realized that her steps had led her to Bree's cemetery.

There was something tense in the air and the atmosphere felt heavy, as though it was about to rain. However, when she looked up towards the sky, she noted that it was clear of clouds.

A sense of foreboding was growing in her.

Shaking the last remnants of thoughts away, she stood there with all her senses in alert. She startled when the wind carried the scent of wolves to her nostrils. It wasn't one or two, there were dozens of them! How could she not have noticed earlier?

Her fur stood on edge as she drew a circular look around the cemetery. Wolf figures started emerging slowly from all directions, sauntering over graves, cutting through undergrowth, their eyes glistening.

And leading the pack was a gracious wolf with fur the color of fire and eyes the color of ashes. Right behind her marched four other wolves.

One of them was the grey wolf with white fur who had been there the day the red wolf had attacked her. Beside him stood the hugest wolf she'd ever laid eyes upon. His stature was wider and taller than any of the other wolves, his fur was dark grey with patches of black, and one of his eyes was scarred. His good eye was of an intense blue that almost turned her blood to ice. The third wolf had fur of the richest tones of brown she'd ever seen on any animal's fur. From head to tail, there was not a place where his fur looked the exact shade of color as in other places. And beside him stood the black wolf Informant, the last of the four wolves, wearing his usual grin. He was the second biggest wolf of the pack.

The sight of them was intimidating to say the least. Allie backed away carefully until her tail touched one of the gravestones. She was completely circled; there was nowhere to escape to.

The other wolves all formed a circle around her and then stopped advancing.

"At last we meet. I am Queen," the red wolf's voice resonated inside of her. Surprisingly, it was meek and velvety like the voice of a lady.

"What do you want with me?" Allie carefully asked.

Queen licked her muzzle in anticipation. "I want to kill you."

At those words, the other wolves started shuffling restlessly. "_Death match! Death match!"_ They howled in her mind.

The golden wolf looked around in a panic.

"I don't want to fight you!" she growled desperately.

Queen was one size larger than she was, and she was the leader of this pack, and of those four intimidating wolves standing behind her. How could she even hope to survive in a direct battle against someone like that?

"I have postponed this long enough. I should have killed you before you even transformed." At this, Queen threw an impatient gaze back at Informant, but the latter simply grinned. _"Well, it does not matter. Come, let us settle this now. It will be over before you have time to feel any pain, I promise."_

Even though her voice flowed like honey inside Allie's being, there was a metallic taste behind it. A kind of bloodlust.

"Why? Why do we have to fight?_"_

The red wolf was now advancing toward her. "Because there can only be one of us."

"Why? I will never interfere with your business! I swear! I will even leave this area if you ask me to".

Now there was an amused expression in Queen's wolf features. "The Blood will not let you. We have to fight, such is our fate."

_"Death match! Death match!"_ The other wolves continued chanting.

In one last desperate attempt, the golden wolf turned her eyes to the black wolf. "Informant!" She begged.

However, Informant simply stood there watching her, yellow eyes glinting in cold anticipation.

Suddenly, she felt stupid to even thinking of asking him for help. Informant was not her friend; even though he had taught her how to be a wolf, he was serving the enemy side. He didn't care whether she lived or died.

Anger coursed through at her at the injustice of it all.

This was it. She only had moments to live now, but she wouldn't go down without a fight.

Banishing the trembling in her limbs, she advanced as well, growling low in her throat. The Blood was pulsing throughout her body, warm and strong, hungry to see the blood of the enemy splash out on the ground.

Queen marked a pause, and then growled as well.

_"Death match! Death match!"_

The Blood was pounding in Allie's ears, and she could sense Queen's Blood doing the same. Because of that, she sensed Queen's intention to pounce on her a split of a second before it happened. She leapt to the right, and Queen's fangs closed on thin air.

Almost immediately, Queen pushed herself off one leg and launched herself at Allie again in the blink of an eye. This time, Queen's fangs scratched her shoulder.

Allie leaped a few feet away to put a safe distance between them, panting with her tongue hanging out. Dodging Queen's attacks was the most she could manage.

Queen's black eyes glinted and there she attacked again, coming towards Allie like a ball of fire. Allie tensed her muscles and pushed forwards as well. The red wolf and the golden wolf collided flank to flank. If Queen was surprised by this offensive, she didn't let it show. Soon, her teeth were sinking into Allie's shoulders, neck and flank.

And Allie did the same, trying to tear out Queen's flesh violently.

_"Death match! Death match!"_ The other wolves continued chanting.

For a few seconds, it was a mesh of red and gold in the middle of the cemetery as a cloud of dust rose around them, and the only sound that could be heard was that of low growls and of teeth clashing against teeth.

However, Allie's movements were slower now and Queen was overpowering her, trying to throw her on the ground and force her to expose her belly. Allie blinked harshly, but it was as though some sort of pressure was crashing her down. It felt as though gravity's pull was all concentrated on her while it gave Queen wings to fly with.

Queen sneaked her head underneath Allie's belly and then flipped her over. Allie flew an instant in the air before landing on her side. Queen was already above her, clawing at her unprotected stomach. A large wound appeared among the golden fur and blood started oozing out.

The wolf spectators all started swinging their tails excitedly.

Queen was wearing a victorious sneer already as she stepped on Allie's head with one leg, thus revealing her throat. Allie batted her legs weakly, but that invisible force that was weighing her down felt like bags and bags of lead on her limbs. She was pinned to the ground by it.

She stared into Queen's pitiless black eyes and knew the latter was about to slice her throat open with her fangs.

_"This is it_ – she thought – _I'm going to die."_

Silently, like a snake, Queen lurched down.

Before her fangs could reach Allie's throat, however, a black shape suddenly knocked into Queen's side violently, sending her staggering.

The pressure that was on Allie suddenly lifted up somewhat and Allie quickly struggled into a standing position. Quickly, her eyes took in the scene.

One small black wolf had detached himself from the pack and had thrown himself at Queen. Allie couldn't explain it, but she had a feeling she had seen him before. His scent was familiar.

However, before she had time to think further, Queen had pinned the black wolf to the ground with a growl of rage and had sliced his stomach open in one swift strike. The black wolf howled in agony as his guts spilled out on the ground.

However, that black wolf's actions had given Allie an opening.

Without second guessing herself, she leapt onto Queen's back and sank her claws and fangs into her shoulder. Queen bounced violently, intending to shake her off, but Allie clung to her with the force of desperation.

The pressure was back on her full force, but she tried to fight it. As though struggling against quicksand, she violently lifted her head and bit Queen's ear.

When Queen struggled, she pulled with all her strength and tore the ear off her head.

_"Death math! Death match!" _The wolves continued chanting with more and more brutality.

Queen wreathed in pain at the loss of her ear and her head swung backwards a little. This was her chance! Allie ducked her head underneath Queen's exposed throat and sank her fangs there, deeper and deeper until she reached the artery. Then, Allie closed her jaw and a jet of blood exploded out of the wound in Queen's throat, spurting all over her head and fur.

The invisible pressure weighing down on her vanished completely, and Allie sauntered back, feeling more alert than she'd ever been. Queen's limp body crashed to the ground dully as blood spurted out of her throat, forming a red pond all around her.

Queen's black eyes shone one last time in disbelief as she looked at the golden wolf, before the glint of life in them faded.

However, it was not over.

As though someone was pulling on her limbs via invisible strings, Allie marched towards Queen's body, soaking her paws in the pool of blood around her. Brusquely, she turned Queen's body over with her muzzle.

Then, her head lowered to Queen's chest and she began tearing away at the flesh there; she dug deeper and deeper until her entire head seemed to be inside Queen's chest.

The other wolves watched as though in a trance.

Seconds later, her head came out again, and she was holding Queen's heart in her jaw. Under the other wolves' careful gaze, she ate it.

As soon as the last bite was swallowed, her grey eyes started gleaming as her Blood coursed madly through her veins.

Deep inside herself, a door slowly cracked open, revealing blinding light on the other side. Allie slowly stepped through it until she was basking in that white light.

She was forced to shut her eyes at the surrounding brightness. However, from her chest suddenly emerged a string of blood. It was formed of droplets of blood hanging in the air, turning and twisting on themselves. Slowly, the string grew longer and longer, and then started branching into dozens of other strings. Each string wobbled and twisted, coursing through the white light in the shape of a giant web, with Allie at its center. And then, each string found its target on the chest of another wolf. Overall, not counting Allie, the Blood established a connection with ninety-six other wolves; some of them were in the cemetery, but most of them were scattered around the whole region of the Shire and its surroundings.

When the connection was complete, Allie slowly opened her eyes and noted that the light was gone.

She was back at the cemetery, with Queen's body at her feet. All the wolves surrounding her were watching her intently, as though expecting something from her.

And then, Informant was silently trudging his way up to her, followed by the other three. Arriving at her level, his yellow eyes smirked. Then, he hung his head down low till his nose was touching the ground.

_"_Queen," he proclaimed in his deep and harsh voice.

All the other wolves hung down their heads as well and chorused together: "Queen."

Allie looked around at the sea of wolves and the reality of the last two minutes finally sank in.

"What are you talking about?"

Informant was the first to raise his head. "You defeated the previous Queen in a death match. As per the Rules of the pack, you are now our new Queen."

The golden wolf slowly shook her head. "No. I refuse."

_"You cannot."_ It was the wolf with the millions of shades of brown in his fur. "The pack already recognizes you as the Queen. Henceforth, you are linked to all of us, as we are linked to you."

His voice was rich and soothing, and Allie lowered her defenses in spite of herself.

Suddenly, she spotted the black wolf that had attacked Queen and saved her life. He was still alive, but barely.

Allie slowly walked towards him; he was breathing laboriously and twitching every now and then. Sensing her come, he opened one black eye and stared at her sadly.

Allie's legs almost gave out underneath her. That look in the black wolf's eyes… she knew it so well. She knew it too well. And his scent too… how hadn't she noticed earlier?

"R-Robin…" she whimpered, hardly able to believe her eyes.

"Allie," the black wolf's voice was weak inside her mind.

The golden wolf whined and touched her muzzle to his face. "Why are you here? Why… why…"

The black wolf shut his eye because it took too much energy to keep it open. "That day… it feels like a lifetime ago. I was in Crickhollow, at the border of that tall Hay, when the previous Queen came at me from nowhere and bit me. And this… right now… is the consequence of that."

Allie lied down on her legs and put her front paw onto that of the black wolf. "So that is why you disappeared, isn't it? It wasn't your choice. You didn't leave me."

The black wolf forced his eye open again, and Allie shook internally. It was as though Robin was looking at her once more. "I would never leave you all alone by choice, little sister."

_"I know. I know," s_he whimpered as she urgently started licking the ghastly wound on his stomach.

"Don't worry Robin, I will save you. When I lick wounds like this, they heal faster."

"Leave it," He murmured weakly. "It's too late."

"Why did you attack Queen and become like this?" she lamented. "You shouldn't have!"

"If I didn't, you would have died…"

Allie touched her muzzle to his head again. "But still!"

"All my life, I could never protect you when I was a hobbit. I was always too scared, and I let you get hurt in my stead. I'm happy, really happy, that I could save you at least once. Today… and back then…"

Allie suddenly knew that the black eye she had seen through the closet door that day belonged to Robin. And Robin had gotten her out by tearing down the door. He had been looking over her all this time.

She whined and whimpered miserably. If she had been in hobbit form, no doubt she would have cried; but she couldn't cry in wolf form. No matter how much she suffered, her eyes remained dry.

"Don't feel sad for me, Allie. I might look like this, but being able to save you… meant the world to me… that is all I ever asked for… I said… I could die happy if one day… I could finally be the one… who protects you…"

He opened his eye again and Allie read the truth of those words in them. His eye was shining with pain, but also peace.

"Allie…" he whispered softly. "Become the Queen. If it's you… you can… definitely…"

Slowly, his eye glided shut.

"Robin!"

His ribcage rose and fell, rose and fell, and then nothing.

Allie slowly sat up on her hind legs, disbelief washing over her. That day, all those years ago now, she thought she had lost Robin forever. In her mind, she had accepted his death and had moved on. But today, against all odds, she had finally gotten to look into his eyes again and see the brother she had longed to be reunited with all this time. But now, she had to watch him die a second time right in front of her, while she, helpless, could do nothing. Directing her head to the sky, she let out a long howl of lament and sorrow.

The circle of wolves simply stood still, their gazes emotionless as they listened to her howl again, and again.

After Allie's pain subsided a little, she slowly paddled away from Robin's body with her tail in between her legs. She ignored Informant as he walked towards her, and instead started licking the blood off her fur. It was sticky and disgusting, and made her angry.

When she was done, she returned to hobbit form. The scratches and wounds that Queen had inflicted upon her hurt more when she was a hobbit, but she had to endure it. Stealing a shovel from the hut beside the cemetery, she went to where her mother's grave was, and started digging a hole beside it.

She worked and worked under the gaze of the circle of wolves, cringing in pain sometimes because of her injuries and of the heat. When the hole was deep enough, she went to where Robin's body lay.

Crouching beside him, she slowly approached her lips and planted a kiss to the black wolf's forehead. Wiping away her tears, she dragged the corpse of the wolf and rolled it inside the hole.

After contemplating his black shape for a few more minutes, she took the shovel again and covered him with dirt.

The afternoon was almost stretching to an end when she was finally done.

The wolves – her pack – had stayed where they were throughout the entire process.

Allie reverted back to wolf shape and started licking her wounds, relaxing a little when her saliva eased the pain.

"I felt a great pressure when I was fighting with Queen. What was that?" she asked, looking at Informant in the eye.

"It is the reason the Queen holds the highest hierarchy in the pack," Informant answered immediately. "She controls the Blood linking the pack together. The Blood is the means by which we can communicate within the pack, no matter the distance. Queen controls every aspect of it; she can paralyze us completely by projecting her own will onto us via the Blood. Now that you are the Queen, you have the same ability. That is why, even though I am faster and stronger than the previous Queen, I could have never won against her."

"Why was I able to beat her then?"

"Because you are a female, and only bitten females can inherit the power of the Blood. By nature, the leader of a wolf pack will always be female. The males in the pack cannot mate so as not to bring females into the pack. The only way to expand the pack is by a process called Recruitment, where the Queen personally gives a single bite to a male of any race. That male will become a wolf and be subjected to the will of the Queen. "

"Is that why Queen said biting me was a mistake?"

"Indeed," Informant grinned widely at this. "Your existence as a wolf is by its nature a mistake. Queens do not bite females, for biting a female will inevitably give rise to a rival who can challenge the Queen for her position."

"If that is so, a Queen can maintain her position forever, if she is careful not to bite any females."

"Not quite so. When the Queen reaches old age, or when the Blood decides to reject her for one reason or another, then the Blood Call will occur. It will be an urge for the Queen to bite other females, and this urge will become stronger and stronger over time until the Queen will go mad with it and end up biting one."

Allie pondered everything over.

"You want me to be your Queen, but what do you want me to do?"

"It is up to you. We listen to your orders."

Allie took a look around at the circle of wolves; the immensity of the task was overwhelming.

"We are here to help you with your functions. We will guide you and fight for you."

"We?" Allie inquired.

Informant grinned his wolf grin. "The core of the pack."

He looked to his right and Allie's gaze followed his. There, stretching beside a grave, was the grey wolf with the distinctive white strips of fur running from his ears to his front paws.

"He is Protector," Informant introduced. "He is your personal body guard and second in command of the pack. Depending on the circumstances, he can adapt to any role within the pack if it ensures your safety. He is the most loyal to the Queen."

Protector sensed them looking and stared at them blankly. Allie already didn't like the look in his eyes.

Informant then pointed his muzzle to the wolf with the different shades of brown in his coat. "That is Councillor, the oldest of the pack. He has been with this pack for hundreds of years and has already served under three Queens. You are the fourth. His knowledge is deep and you will need his advice to ensure the well functioning of the pack."

Councillor's deep hazel eyes settled on her and she nodded once in salute.

Beside Councillor stood the large dark grey wolf with the single eye. "Hunter," Informant introduced. "His role to lead his unit to capture food for the pack and to help the pack migrate to where the game is the most abundant within our territory. In times of war, he is also the captain who leads the offensive."

Hunter's ferocious blue eye bore into her, and even though it was full of brute force, she didn't detect any animosity in it.

"And finally, I am Informant. The wolves under my command are spread-out throughout kilometers and kilometers, and relay information back to me on what is going on around the area. It is a true web of intel. In times of war, I can also act as a spy to collect various information for you. I must have you know that there is no piece of news that can filter through my well established net."

Allie looked at them all.

Protector, Councillor, Hunter, Informant – the core of the pack.

Informant was not done: "All the wolves who are not the core of the pack are called recruits. They answer to you, but they are also organized into four units, with each unit answering to one of us. It is easier to divide up the work this way. Hunter is the one with the biggest unit since his function of acquiring food and waging war requires the most wolves."

She didn't know the wolves were this well organized. They had a whole network in place and were highly intelligent beings. And in the center of it all, the mysterious Blood linked together their fates.

"I need some time to think," the golden wolf said and then sauntered away. The pack of wolves made way, letting her pass, watching as she left the cemetery.

"She will be back," Informant affirmed. "There is nothing to think about. Whether she likes it or not, she is now the Queen of this pack. Unless another female dethrones her, there will be no escaping it."

"Is this the outcome you were hoping for by disobeying the previous Queen's command to kill her?" Councillor asked.

Informant grinned. "I simply wanted to witness a death match. That is all. The results are quite surprising, but yes, you can say that overall I am pleased. And you should be too. Your prophecy came true. Or at the very least, the first half of it has."

One yellow eye gauged Councillor, but the old wolf remained silent.

* * *

Morning light falling on his eyelids induced Frodo into awareness.

Opening his eyes groggily, he was soon assaulted by a throbbing headache. There was also a metallic taste in his mouth. He thought he saw a glimmer of gold in front of him, but when he rubbed his eyes and looked again, the alleyway was empty.

Slowly, the memories of the night before resurfaced in his muggy brain. He tried moving his limbs and noted that nothing seemed broken.

With the help of the wall, he stood up on his feet and looked around.

He was at a dead-end of the alley; he didn't remember fighting those human kids here.

He was dusting off his clothes distractedly when suddenly he noted the golden hairs sticking to the palm of his hand. His eyes widened in recognition.

"Allie?"

He leaned against the wall and examined his clothes more closely, and just as he expected, he discovered more strands of fur stuck there. He lifted one and observed it under the sun; it was shining like gold, unlike anything he'd ever seen before. So there was no mistake: Allie had been here. For some reason, this realization brought on a painful pinch to his heart as he regretted more than ever having stepped back from her.

After that, he managed to find his way to the main street quite rapidly. He just had to follow a line of garbage cans; he wished he had noticed them the night before.

Then, after five days of trudging through hills and countryside, he finally made it back to Bag-End. Bilbo almost had a heart attack upon seeing him.

"Frodo! I just asked you to deliver a letter! Why do you look like you have been living in the wild?"

Frodo just collapsed on the bed in his room. "Don't even mention it, uncle. Perhaps I'm not cut out for adventures."

Bilbo crossed his arms across his chest and looked upon his nephew hopelessly.

After Frodo slept for eighteen hours followed by a hearty meal, he finally felt as though he was alive again.

Sitting on his bed, he looked outside his bedroom window at the bush of flowers growing in the garden. Sam was working in their garden again, carefully planting some roses along the fence. Thanks to his hard work, their garden was now a real piece of art that all the neighbours looked upon with envy.

When Sam left to get the hose, a figure quickly jumped over the fence into their garden. Frodo blinked upon recognizing Allie. She was only wearing a huge shirt as she made a beeline towards her window. To her consternation, it was locked from the inside.

"Psst!"

She turned around the corner of the smial and saw Frodo beckoning at her from his window. Her expression quickly became apprehensive, but Frodo nodded towards her reassuringly. Allie hesitated for a second before coming towards him. Then, grabbing the edge of the window, she hoisted herself up. Frodo moved to make way for her to jump into his room.

She kept throwing him brief glances and moved around carefully, as though scared he might start screaming and running away any second.

However, Frodo simply lifted her arm to stare at the gush running from her elbow to her wrist. "What happened?" he asked worriedly.

Allie quickly pulled on her shirt self-consciously; the truth was that she had wounds like that all over her body from the fight with Queen. They healed faster than normal injuries, but some traces still remained.

"It's nothing," she said in low voice. "Don't worry about it."

After throwing him a last uncertain glance, she stepped out of his room and into hers. Five minutes later, she was out again after changing into a set of normal clothes. She didn't have that many of them left since she kept tearing them up after transforming; her closet was almost empty now. However, she couldn't find an adequate excuse to ask Bilbo for money to buy new clothes.

She paused upon seeing Frodo waiting for her outside her room.

He tried to smile reassuringly when he saw her stunned expression. On his way back, he had thought long and hard as he stared at the few strands of golden fur in his hand, and finally, he had come to the conclusion that there was only one thing he could do. "Allie, can we talk for a second?"

Allie tried to guess his intentions, but his blue eyes were simply gazing softly at her. Feeling hesitant, she nodded timidly.

Frodo and her both went out from the front door. Allie stepped down the stairs carefully; it had been a long time since she had used the front door to go out. Sam looked up from his work.

"Good day, Mr. Frodo. Oh, Allie!" He looked surprised. "Oh my, I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

Allie gave him a small smile.

After that, Frodo and Allie walked in silence along the country roads, listening to the acacias sing.

Then, Frodo put his hand on her arm and guided her to a halt. Allie looked into his smiling face and opened her mouth a little. She always thought she would never see him smiling at her like this ever again. Perhaps because she thought she had lost it, his smile at that moment was particularly heart-warming.

"I know what you did for me in Bree."

Her eyes widened slightly.

Frodo went to sit on a stone bench. Seeing Allie still rooted on the spot in the middle of the road, he gently patted the place next to him.

Slowly, she complied, stunned eyes riveted to his.

For a moment, Frodo didn't say anything more, but simply leaned back on his hands and stared up at the blue sky with a pensive expression.

"Everything that is happening is pretty unbelievable," he finally whispered. "That wolf bite must have been the reason for your predicament, I know. On my way to Bree and back, all I could think about was that small step back that I made in the clearing that day."

Allie lowered her gaze to her lap and played with her thumbs.

"I cannot imagine how you must have felt at that moment. You must have felt so betrayed, and so lonely. You probably hated me too."

At this, Allie quickly lifted her head to contradict him, but he was already pursuing: "But in spite of it all, you still came to help me in Bree."

Frodo huffed a small laugh. "Somehow, it makes me feel kind of ashamed. And I cannot possibly find the right words to express how I feel right now, so all I can say is… I'm sorry. And thank you."

Allie was staring at him in wonder, a mixed vortex of emotions swirling up inside of her.

Frodo finally made eye contact apologetically. "It is true that I was scared of you back then, but… I really am not scared anymore."

The sincerity in his eyes was apparent and overwhelming. He really meant it this time. A warm bubble enveloped Allie to the point where her skin felt on fire.

Frodo's gentle expression turned into one of dismay when one tear rolled down her cheek, followed by another.

"What's wrong? Did I say something…"

Allie shook her head violently.

She wanted to smile, to tell him how happy and relieved she was by his words, but no sound would come out. She could only wipe at the incessant stream of tears flowing down her face.

Frodo watched her cry for a moment before understanding.

He put a reassuring hand on her head. "It's all right. Just breathe."

Allie drew in small, shaky breaths, still wiping away at her tears.

"I-I was so scared," she finally managed to say through the lump in her throat. "I was scared that you hated me… hated what I have become. I was so scared… that I would no longer be able to live with you… and Bilbo. I was so scared of being alone again…"

Frodo's chest ached at her words. His hand slid from her head to her shoulder and suddenly he drew her close to him. "I will never let you be alone. And I will never ever hate you."

He felt her body shaking and hugged her tighter. "Did you know?" he whispered in her hair. "Whether you are a wolf or a hobbit, your eyes still look the same. So in the future, no matter how your body looks like, you will always just be Allie to me. I don't care about the rest."

Allie slowly leaned her forehead against his shoulder as she clung onto his shirt for dear life.

"Thank you for not hating me," she said between two sobs. "You have always been the only one who's never given up on me... even when I showed you so many of my bad sides. That's why I don't care if everyone else thinks I'm a freak… as long as you don't. I just realized that you are the most important person to me right now."

Her words left Frodo breathless for a moment. Then, he closed his eyes and just held her.

"You are also mine."

Hobbits walked past on the road beside their bench, throwing them stunned glances and whispering amusedly among themselves, but Frodo and Allie just clung to each other, blind to everyone and everything else.

* * *

Hola people! As promised, this chapter is now up since it's the weekend. Since so many of you are leaving comments lately, I'm feeling really motivated, so next chapter might be posted as soon as next Wednesday! haha :P

**1945:** This chapter should have answered some of your questions. Basically, the red wolf (Queen) was looking for males to convert into wolves for her upcoming war against another pack of wolves. They came upon Frodo and Allie, and Queen meant to bite Frodo but ended up biting Allie instead. Hope that helped clear up a few things :) Thanks for commenting! :D

**Wicken25:** Yes! You are right. In the book, Frodo inherits the ring when he's 33. And Gandalf comes back when he's 50 and tells him the ring is evil and he has to destroy it, etc, etc. And during that time when Frodo had the ring, he didn't age. But honestly, I'm not gonna wait till Frodo is 50 to start the story XD. I think I will make him set out on his journey when he's 33 (so basically what happens in the movie). Yeah I know, I can't wait to write about Aragorn. That shall be good :p Strider! Thanks for your review! :D :D

**Mallory:** omg hi! I'm always so happy when I see new readers! :D And all your comments and constructive criticism was AWESOME to read, so thanks for that! I know, I tend to incorporate 21st century things when I'm writing XD. I've caught myself doing that more than once, and I've gone back to correct those that I noticed, but there are always those that I miss out on, such as the flashlights. Lol, now I'm picturing Sam waving flashlights at Shelob, and it's definitely all wrong! I'm gonna go back to that chapter and change those flashlights into lamps or something. Thanks for pointing that out! Also, I know, the swearing can be out of place. Actually, I don't remember where I might have dropped that F-bomb. I know I dropped the B-bomb in that chapter you just reviewed for, lmao. But don't worry, after that chapter, it eased out a lot. I think I incorporated those curse words because Marroc was there and it seemed to fit with his character (yes, yes, I blame everything on Allie's dad :p ). Yup! The Allie/Frodo relationship is sooo much fun to write. I love them as a couple and I keep thinking how cute they are as I'm writing them, haha. Pippin didn't know about Allie's situation back then, since he was in Tuckborough and Merry hasn't told him yet. At chapter 16, they have a brother-sister kind of relationship and Pippin really looks up to her. Pippin already has three older sisters, so that is not a relationship that is foreign to him. Pippin has a big role to play though, so don't worry, you will see more of him! *dum-dum*. Thanks SO much for your review! I really hope to hear more from you soon! :)

**voldy:** Hi there! Thanks for leaving a review! :D Let's see... this will be a long fic, I can tell you that much. We are halfway there so I guess around 50 chapters? :):)

-sunset


	25. Betrayal

**Betrayal**

_September_

It was the first day of class after summer vacation. All the hobbits looked gloomy as they prepared themselves for another year ahead.

Miss Cora smiled as she entered the classroom and saw the familiar faces of her students. "Welcome back, everyone! I hope you all enjoyed your summer! Oh my, don't tell me this is our little Ivor? You have grown taller!"

Ivor, the smallest hobbit in their class, nodded proudly.

"I grew taller too!"

"Me too!"

A chorus of voices chanted. Miss Cora clapped to demand the attention. "That is great, everyone! You are all older now. That is why this year we are doing something new. We are going to have projects!"

"What kind of projects?" Marigold asked eagerly.

"You will get the chance to see how the adults do their work in Hobbiton and Bywater. You will visit the farms, the forges, the mills, the fields, and many other places."

Marigold's eyes shone with enthusiasm.

"This Friday," Miss Cora resumed brightly, "there will be a meeting with your parents to decide together where you will be assigned to for your project. I am well aware that many of your parents own farms and the like, but having the project on your own family's land will defy the purpose, so we will have to be careful while assigning you to your project."

"What about those who have no parents?" Lotho asked, directing a contemptuous look at Frodo.

Frodo clenched his fists on his lap under his desk.

"Not to worry!" Miss Cora replied warmly. "The closest relative will do."

After class ended, Frodo sat on a bench inside the school yard, staring up at the clouds. Somehow, he didn't feel like working in a farm, in a forge, or the like. If it were up to him, he would probably rather spend the rest of his days reading books somewhere quiet. He could do the farm work if he really had to, but that's not where his passion was. Marigold had told him many times that she wanted to own lots of land when she grew up, and have a field that rivalled that of farmer Maggot's.

"I wonder what your project will be," a sneering voice said behind his back.

Frodo sighed and braced himself before he turned around to face Lotho. To his surprise, he was alone this time, without Sancho and Ted.

"Let's see…" Lotho pursued, "perhaps you could open an asylum for when your uncle loses it completely? Or… how about being a guardian for his imaginary treasure? Or better yet… how about you go fishing?"

Frodo frowned.

"That's right! Maybe if you become a skilled fisherman one day, you will be able to fish out the corpses of your parents from the bottom of that river."

Frodo told himself not to mind Lotho's words but nonetheless they hurt like daggers.

Lotho saw his expression and smirked. "Ha! If you ever find their corpses, I wonder whether your father's bony hands are still around your mother's neck."

Frodo stood up angrily. "Shut up, Lotho! My father did not kill my mother!"

"How do you know? You were not even there!" Lotho mocked.

"You were not there either!"

He shrugged. "Someone that my mother knows saw them there that day. So my mother told me the story in turn."

"Lobelia's words are worse than cow dung!"

Lotho screwed up his eyes. "How dare you insult someone else's mother, you orphan?"

Frodo's blue eyes blazed. "Yes, I am an orphan! But do you know? I would rather be an orphan than have a mother such as yours! She is a liar and a manipulative person who only cares about getting her hands on my uncle's house! She is worse than dirt!"

"You little….!" Lotho yelled. "Do not insult my mother! At least she's here and not at the bottom of some river, like yours!"

Frodo's jaw was clenched so tight he couldn't even speak. Lotho stepped forward. "You are such a hateful little bastard! I hate you, and I'm sure your parents hated you too! That's why they preferred dying rather than being with you…"

Frodo covered his ears. "Shut up!"

"They hated you! They hated you! Everybody hates you!" Lotho screamed. "And that's why you will be the only one with a senile uncle at Friday's gathering!"

Frodo pushed past Lotho and ran out of the schoolyard in a rush.

"That's right!" Lotho screamed after him. "Go away! Leave! Nobody wants you here anyway!"

* * *

Allie was standing on one of the multiple small bridges of Hobbiton, looking down at the green waters flowing past quietly.

As she twirled the stem of an herb in between her fingers, she thought back to the day before. After she had calmed down a little, she had told Frodo about Robin. Frodo had been too shocked to speak for a few minutes, but then he had told her that one day they should go visit his grave together.

She also ended up telling Frodo everything she had learned about the wolves, and Frodo had listened, stunned into silence by the existence of these creatures that lived at their border but whose presence was not mentioned anywhere, not even in their legends. The biggest problem at hand though was the fact that Allie still didn't know if she wanted to accept the position of leader at the head of the pack. The wolves couldn't force her to do anything, so if she decided she just wanted to live her life like she'd always done and ordered them not to interfere, they would have to do as she said.

She nodded eagerly; that sounded like a good plan.

She leisurely walked off the bridge and knelt beside the clear water of the stream. She dipped her hand into it, marvelling at the coolness of the currents rushing through her fingers.

_You are the most important person to me right now._

Her back straightened as though pulled by a spring. "Why did I say such an embarrassing thing?" she lamented out loud as she pulled on her blonde curls.

_You are mine too._

She stopped struggling with her hair and lied down limply on the grass. _That rascal_ - she thought affectionately - _always knowing what to say at times like that._ Without her knowing, a small smile started playing on her lips as Frodo's words echoed again and again in her mind.

She was pulled out of her reverie by the sound of running footsteps on the road above the stream; Allie sighed and lazily rolled onto her stomach. She hoisted herself up on one elbow however, when she saw that it was Frodo passing by in a hurry.

He was crying.

"Frodo!" she called after him, but he didn't hear her.

She scrambled on her feet and ran after him.

She found him sitting by the lake, at the spot where he had lit the candles for her on her last birthday. Her strides slowed down when she spotted him and shuffled to a stop by the closest tree to the lake.

Frodo was sitting with his knees against his chest and his face buried in his arms.

Allie played with a pan of her shirt nervously. She wanted to go ask him what was wrong, but he might get even more upset at the sight of her. She knew he wanted to be alone when he cried, but she's cried alone in the past as well, so she knew how lonely it could feel.

Watching his shoulders shaking, she was taken by the sudden and powerful desire to comfort him and tell him it would be all right.

She marched forward and stopped within two meters of him.

"Frodo," she called out softly.

Frodo's shaking stopped for a second, before he buried his face deeper into the hollow of his arms. "Leave me alone!" he let out in a muffled and broken voice.

Allie stood there unmoving, watching his back and his dark hair blowing a little in the wind. Then, she took a deep breath.

A second later, something cold contacted Frodo's arm.

He looked up slowly and then blinked in surprise, making more tears spill out. In front of his eyes stood the golden wolf; she was nudging him softly with her nose, her grey eyes compassionate.

"Allie…?"

The wolf nodded. Ever since that day in the clearing, Frodo hadn't seen her again in wolf form.

Allie sat on her hind legs beside Frodo, close enough that her fur was brushing against his clothes. Frodo could only watch her in wonder: looking at her from up close, her coat shone more brilliantly than ever under the sun.

He raised a hand to touch her, but froze when the wolf sensed his motion and turned her head to look at him. Through his tears, he stared hesitantly into those grey eyes, but only saw a reassuring light in them.

_"It's all right,"_ her eyes seemed to say.

Carefully, he pressed his palm against the fur of her neck; it was smooth and silky, and above all, very warm. Frodo had played with many dogs before, but the sensation of his fingers running through that golden fur was unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

Frodo wiped away his tears and sat there caressing her fur as he looked at the waters of the lake.

"I really miss my parents," he confessed sadly. "Now that I think about it, they are still at the bottom of the river. I wonder…"

He swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I wonder how the accident happened."

His hand stopped its motion on the wolf's neck. "Lotho… has been saying this for awhile. He said… he heard that… my father… my father tried to kill my mother."

He clenched her fur and started shaking.

One grey eye entered his field of vision and stared at him intensely; the wolf slowly shook her head.

Frodo let out a bitter chuckle. "You are right… it is silly to believe that. Lotho is just messing with me."

He covered half of his face with one hand. "But I miss them so bad, Allie. Ever since they died, I tried to go on with my life the best I could. I tried not to cry too much, because then Bilbo would worry, and all my friends would worry. And it has been two years already, so it should be easy… but it is not."

The wolf softly nudged his face with her nose and then licked away the salty tears on his cheeks, her grey eyes shining softly.

He turned away and pressed his fists into his eyes, but the tears kept coming in spite of his best efforts. "I don't think I can do this, Allie," he managed to say.

The golden wolf shuffled closer and wrapped her tail around him.

Frodo leaned his forehead against her neck and let the tears he had been holding in all this time finally fall freely. Allie rested her head on his and drew her tail closer around him, shielding him from the world as he sobbed his heart out for the first time since his parents died.

There was a sensation of warmth in Allie's chest as she realized she could help Frodo in her wolf form in a way that she otherwise could not. It was probably a good thing that she couldn't speak to him right now, because she wouldn't have known what to say. She just wished that by keeping him company in this manner, he would feel less alone.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the wind started blowing over the lake. Frodo was not sobbing hard anymore, just letting out a small sniffle now and then.

Allie licked his cheek again, tasting the saltiness of his tears. Frodo gave her a small smile and wrapped his arms around her neck.

Allie suddenly lifted her head up in alert.

They were not alone; hadn't been alone for a while.

On the opposite shore, she picked up the scent of Protector. Out of all the wolves, he was the only one who kept giving her bad vibes. She was on her guard immediately as she pondered over the reason why he was spying on her like this.

And the second scent came from the trees behind them; it pertained to Marigold.

How long had she been there? Had she seen her transform?

However, it was too late to do anything about those spectators, so Allie decided to leave them both alone.

For now.

Unconsciously, she immersed herself in the Blood that connected her to the pack. That day in the cemetery, the Blood not only had allowed her to sense the location of all the wolves as though they were red dots on a map, but had also allowed her to sense their overall emotions as well as though the whole pack were a single entity.

As she did the same thing again now, she was soon struck by an overall sense of disquiet running through the pack. The number of red dots was also less than what she remembered sensing that day in the cemetery. The number of wolves had dwindled from ninety six to eighty one.

What had gone wrong already in such a short time?

Four of the red dots were brighter than the others, and they belonged to the core of the pack. She found the dot pertaining to Informant and saw that he was somewhere up North with the other red dot representing Councillor.

She established communication with him by sending him her thoughts through the thread of Blood linking her to Informant.

"Informant?"

"Queen!" the black wolf sounded surprised.

"What's going on?"

"It is about time you asked, if you do not mind me saying so." His voice was grim. "The wolves of the North Moors have betrayed us. The previous Queen struck an alliance with them, and together with their help she was able to vanquish the Queen of the South Downs, thus assimilating their pack to ours. In return, we have promised those of the North Moors protection from the hyenas. However, my sources tell me that recently, recruits from the North Moors started killing off our own wolves. If this persists, it might lead to open war."

He paused. "I hope this is a private communication."

Somehow, she understood his meaning. "It is."

Informant sounded troubled, and she had never heard him troubled before.

"I suspect that there is a spy in our pack," Informant continued angrily. "The wolves that have been killed were all by themselves when the attack happened, which tells me that the enemy knew their location beforehand. They cannot have access to such exact information unless someone from our pack has been leaking them. Also, they killed one of my recruits as well. I sent him to do some spying on those of the North Moors to gauge their intentions, but he died the other day. This means the enemy knew of his presence."

"The pack is huge. If there is indeed a spy, it will take a long time to figure out who it is. But how can this be? I thought wolves cannot disobey me."

"They cannot disobey a direct order from you, but in times when there is no order, they are usually off doing their own things, such as hunting and the like. It is impossible to monitor every behaviour. However, if they do something that could be harmful to the Queen or to the pack, it will create a disturbance in the Blood that can be sensed by you immediately. The only thing is, if the wolf is extremely skilled, it might be possible for him to hide the disturbance from you for a short while."

"Skilled?"

"Yes, an average recruit does not have enough power of will nor strength to control the Blood in that way. The only ones who can are the core of the pack and yourself."

"Doesn't that mean the spy is one of you four?" Allie asked accusingly.

"There are two reasons why that is unlikely. The first reason is that, for one of us to act in such a direct manner against the well-being of the pack, the disturbance in the Blood would be enormous. We might have the skills to conceal it, but it would take a lot from us to the point where it is physically painful. And the second reason is that you have not been in your wolf form ever since these events started happening – Informant's tone was reproachful – so even if one of the recruits was creating disturbance, you would have missed it altogether."

Allie tried not to feel guilty. After all, she had never accepted her role as leader of the pack yet.

Suddenly, Allie sensed Councillor trying to make connection with her. After a second of hesitation, she opened the Blood thread for him to join their conversation.

"From Informant's expression, I can guess at the content of your discussion." Councillor's voice was warm and his diction was clear and slow. It reminded her of the old storyteller at the Prancing Pony who told stories for a living. Allie always thought that his voice itself was alive. Councillor's voice gave her the same sentiment.

"No doubt there is a spy," Councillor continued thoughtfully. "This does not occur often, but when it does, it is a subject matter punishable by death."

"How can we find this spy?" Informant asked. "I firmly believe it is none of my recruits. I have not sensed any abnormal thoughts from any of them."

"I can vouch for mine as well," Councillor affirmed.

"I have asked Hunter and Protector, and they have given me the same answers."

"The wolves who were killed," Allie pondered, "they might have something in common between them."

The web of Blood connecting all the wolves belonging to her pack floated in front of Allie's eyes, and she peered through it carefully.

"Yes, there is!" Councillor suddenly exclaimed. "Now that I think about it, most of them belonged to Protector's unit. I cannot believe I have not detected this association earlier."

"Then," Informant declared grimly, "the spy is likely from Protector's unit. Only another recruit of his unit would have such perfect knowledge of the location of his comrades."

"Or it is Protector himself," Allie suggested.

Informant and Councillor both fell silent for a long time at this.

"Think about it," Allie continued. "The spy is someone who knew the location of lone wolves in the unit. Protector is the only one who has knowledge of their exact location. Moreover, he might have ordered some of his recruits on lone missions just to lead them straight to the enemy. Most importantly, the spy also knows about the wolf that Informant sent. Who knows this piece of information?"

"The core of the pack," Informant answered darkly. "I discussed the matter with the other three before taking action."

"This reinforces my point. Protector also possesses the necessary skills to conceal the Blood disturbance. He's strong enough to do that, I'm sure of it."

"He was the one who negotiated with those of the North Moors during the previous war," Informant added as an afterthought.

"What would he gain from letting the enemy kill off his own wolves?" Councillor wondered.

"Informant said this earlier: those killings might lead to open war between the two packs. The real question is why would Protector wish for that?" Allie observed. "Informant, Councillor, is Blood the only way wolves communicate with one another?"

"Over long distances and within the pack, the Blood is the sole means of communication," Councillor replied. "However, when two wolves talk face to face, or when wolves of different packs communicate, they simply use normal wolf language."

"I see."

At that moment, another voice reached her, seeming to come from far away. "Allie? Allie?"

The golden wolf blinked and saw Frodo looking at her uncertainly.

"Informant, Councillor, that is all for now."

"Queen, you need to do something about this situation, especially if Protector ends up being the betrayer, for it would impact greatly on you as well," Councillor begged.

"Don't call me your Queen! I have not yet decided to take on that role," Allie replied somberly before cutting off the communication.

Allie returned his attention upon Frodo and saw that he was splashing lake water onto his face. When he was done, he walked back to Allie and studied her with soft eyes. Allie swiveled her ears, and then stood up on her legs. She was taller than Frodo as she did so.

Frodo lifted both hands and cupped her muzzle. He looked in much better spirits than before, and she was glad.

Frodo dropped his hands and started walking away. "Wait here," he told her.

She sat on her hind legs and did as he told her. After a couple of minutes, Frodo ran back to her, holding a large blanket that he must have taken from somewhere. Allie saw that and understood. She went behind the trees, and transformed back into her hobbit self.

When she was done, she peeked over the bark shyly.

Frodo handed her the blanket, trying not to look. Allie draped it around her body and walked out from behind the tree. "This is all pretty inconvenient," she groaned as she tried not to walk on the tissue.

She found Frodo looking at her gratefully. "Thank you for what you did."

She scratched her cheek awkwardly. "Don't mention it. I'm glad you feel better."

"How did you find me?" he inquired.

She shrugged. "I saw you running past by the river. I called out to you but you didn't hear me. Even if I hadn't seen you, I could have still found you by your scent. I'm a wolf now, so I will always be able to find you." She grinned. "You will always lose at hide-and-seek now."

Frodo arched an eyebrow. "You will lose too. If you hide in your wolf form, I will see your fur shining from afar."

Allie scrunched up her nose. "Now that your mention it, the color of my fur is pretty inconvenient. I wish I had grey fur, like Hunter, perhaps."

Suddenly, she gave out a small disbelieving laugh. "Frodo, I cannot believe we are having this conversation right now. It really means the world to me that you can accept me, even as I am now."

Frodo ruffled her hair tenderly. "I have told you this already: no matter how you look like, you will always just be Allie to me."

Allie rushed forward and hugged him tight. Frodo took a small step back, and then slowly wrapped his arms around the blanket enveloping her frame.

"You will stay with me forever, won't you?" she asked.

He tightened his hold on her. "Yes. Always," he replied gently.

His heart was racing again, just like that day under the rain and just like that time on the tree platform. As Allie's body warmth reached him from under the blanket, he realized he had known all along why he was feeling this way.

The realization made his cheeks turn red and a lump grow in his throat. He let go of her, feeling as though he would burn out if they stayed in that position any longer.

Allie, unaware of the internal battle inside his heart, beamed at him brightly and said: "Come on, let's go home now. It's almost dinner time."

Frodo could only nod as he followed after her.

* * *

Rosie stared at Marigold with round eyes. "Truly? I have never seen a dog like this in the neighbourhood!"

Marigold's brown eyes shone enthusiastically. "Me neither! I was so surprised! It was enormous! And it had the most beautiful golden fur I have ever seen!"

"Golden?" Rosie exclaimed incredulously. "Marigold, stop making things up."

Marigold pouted. "But I'm not. I've never lied to you before. Oh my, here comes Frodo! Ask him yourself! Hey, Frodo!"

Frodo looked over and approached the two girls.

"Marigold here is telling me you were bawling your eyes out yesterday while hugging some huge dog by the lake, is that true?"

A string of different emotions crossed Frodo's eyes: embarrassment, alarm, relief.

"Where did it come from?" Marigold asked excitedly. "Is it a neighbour's dog? I want to see it again and show it to Rosie!"

"No!" Frodo answered quickly. "It is not a neighbor's dog and I have never seen it around here before. It must have been a stray."

"Really? But you looked so familiar with it! You were even hugging it! Were you not scared of it? I mean, it was sitting beside you but it was taller than you!"

Rosie was shooting her disbelieving glances again, and Frodo was shooting alarmed glances at them both. "Well, it approached me and looked friendly enough, so I was not scared. I think it just wanted to comfort me. But now it is gone, so don't go looking for it."

Marigold sighed in disappointment. "I want a dog like that!"

Rosie was eyeing with suspicion the nervous way in which Frodo was playing with the pan of his shirt.

"Frodo, is there something you are not telling us?"

"What?" he babbled. "Not at all. I am simply baffled and embarrassed that I had a witness. Marigold, I didn't know you were there! I hope you have not told everyone that I was crying?"

Marigold clasped a hand to her mouth. "Oh, buggers. I am so sorry! I have only told Rosie. I will not tell any more people if you don't want me to."

She pouted. "It's just that I heard what Lotho said to you. I reported him to Miss Cora and she put him in detention. But I was still angry, so I had to vent somehow, and Rosie was willing to listen. In all honesty, I ran after you yesterday because I was worried, but I'm so glad you found a friend to comfort you."

She giggled. "For a moment, I thought the dog was yours! They say that after a long time spent together, dogs respond to their master's emotions the best. Watching you and that golden dog really made me want a pet! Oh, that's right! I'm going to ask Papa for a puppy now!"

Frodo let her continue with her babbling, forcing a smile now and then.

Finally, he found an opening and excused himself.

As he walked back towards Bag-End, he let out a weary sigh. He thought back to the day before and couldn't help feeling embarrassed for a second for crying so much in front of Allie (even if she had been in her wolf form).

But the good news was that he didn't feel lonely anymore; even without his parents around, he knew he could count on Allie now. And he never wanted to lose her like he had lost her parents. He wanted to be with her, always. In order for that to happen, he had to protect her secret.

* * *

Protector stopped at the border of the Marshes between the North Downs and the North Moors. It was a night of full moon, and every detail on the land seemed to shine with a silver lining.

After a few seconds, another wolf appeared under the moonlight, stopping a few inches away from Protector. The two wolves stared at each other for a second and swivelled their ears in greeting.

"Two of my recruits are further down the dunes, by the caves," Protector finally said.

The other wolf acknowledged this silently, and then paused for a second with his nose in the air, communicating the information with those of his own pack. When he was done, he reported his shimmering eyes onto Protector's haggard figure. "At this rate, you will die."

Protector stared hard at the other and then barked once as warning. "Even if I die, I do not care. This is all for the sake of my revenge."

The other wolf looked him down with pity. "Our Queen has agreed to your proposal for now, but even if you manage to create open war between our two packs, our Queen will not engage in a death match with yours if the risks are too high."

"The risks will not be high," Protector growled. "I have thought this through carefully and see nothing that could go wrong. The core of my pack will be busy handling the affairs of war, and our Queen is nothing but an inexperienced whelp who does not even wish to be Queen. Killing her will not be hard."

Suddenly, Protector bent over and coughed out blood.

The other wolf watched indifferently. "If you die first from battling out the disturbances of the Blood, what use will that be?"

"Do not worry about me. I will survive until then."

"Why do you go so far to betray your own pack? I must say it is unsightly."

Protector's ears twitched. "What is unsightly is for you to suddenly question the morality of our agreement. Morality is nothing but a phantom feeling for us, wolves. You should only be thinking of what is best for your own pack." Protector sat down, panting. "My pack is finished in any case. We were on our way to expanding, but with the fall of the previous Queen, we are now nothing more than a band of aimless animals with no leader. If only the previous Queen had not been cheated, she would still be alive."

"Cheated?"

"During the death match, one of our recruits intervened!" Protector hissed through bared teeth, eyes blazing with fury. "That is the only reason Queen lost! And that little whelp knew the recruit… they must have planned this together beforehand… it is all a conspiracy!"

Protector shook his head violently, sending strings of bloody saliva flying from his mouth.

The other wolf looked unaffected by Protector's outburst. "No wonder your previous Queen was defeated," he stated coldly. "How could she call herself a Queen when she could not even defeat a newborn she-wolf and a recruit?"

At this, Protector launched towards the other wolf with bared fangs, but the other sauntered back lightly on his legs and easily avoided the attack. "Save your energy for when it matters," he warned.

Protector was panting madly with his head close to the ground. "No matter what you say, I shall take revenge for the true Queen of my pack."

"There is another problem," the other wolf spoke up coldly. "If my Queen challenges yours for a death match, but your Queen runs away from it, it will all be meaningless."

At this, Protector's eyes filled with malice. "Do not worry. She will not run away."

And then, he sent the other wolf the image of the golden wolf cuddling with the hobbit with dark hair by the side of the lake.

The other wolf licked his muzzle. "I see. Very well. We shall then proceed as planned."

Protector watched as the other wolf turned his tail and lightly marched away, soon disappearing at a turn of the Marshes.

Catching his breath briefly, Protector stood up straight and walked South towards the downs.

He suddenly paused when he saw two pairs of shimmering eyes ahead of him on the road. Soon after, a black wolf and a golden wolf appeared out of the night and marched relentlessly towards him.

Protector licked his muzzle nervously. There was no mistaking the hard glint in the golden wolf's eyes. Protector tensed his muscles and launched himself into the night, running away as fast as he could on the sandy ground.

Two heart beats later, a heavy mass landed on his head and the momentum made him tumble to the ground. The heavy weight pressed down hard on his head, rubbing it against the ground and making him eat dirt until he finally came to a stop.

Panting, Protector directed one eye upward and saw Informant grinning down ferociously at him, still pressing his paw against the side of his head.

Then, the golden wolf marched into his field of vision, her eyes shining like pools of cold silver under the moonlight.

"I heard your conversation with that Protector wolf from the North Moors," she stated harshly. "How dare you even consider putting one of my hobbit friends in danger?"

Her silver eyes glinted in cold fury.

Protector tried to get up, but he was too weak and Informant was still pinning him down. Knowing that everything was lost, he finally let hatred show in his eyes openly, and hissed: "I will never recognize you as Queen of this pack! You are merely an usurper! You do not care about the pack, and you will lead us all to ruin!"

"Like I care what you think about me," Allie stated coldly. "And you are a hypocrite yourself. Stop pretending that you care about this pack when you are sending your own recruits to go die at the fangs of another pack."

Protector thrashed wildly, his eyes huge.

"What are we going to do with this betrayer?" Informant asked avidly, and clawed his paw into Protector's head.

"You might feel as though your Queen was cheated during the death match, and you might be right," Allie continued. "After all, there was intervention from the outside. However, I am not ashamed of receiving help. I was merely fighting to stay alive; that was all that mattered to me."

Protector growled menacingly. "Queen should not have died!"

The golden wolf walked right next to Protector's prostrated body and dominated over him. "But she did die. And it does not change the reality that you have betrayed this pack."

"Your offense is punishable by death," Councillor's voice suddenly rose from beside them as the brown wolf sauntered into sight.

"You do not understand!" Protector howled madly. "We are now nothing but a band of wild animals without a goal! If we are assimilated to those of the North Moors, at least we will be led by a capable Queen!"

Informant's eyes were filled with disdain. "I would rather become a wild animal than to be assimilated. I am enjoying my current position, thank you very much."

Councillor nodded to Allie. "Queen. It is time."

At those words, Informant licked his muzzle eagerly and clawed Protector's head back, revealing his throat.

Protector's eye was still full of defiance as he stared up at Allie. She approached him slowly and used the Blood to gauge at his feelings one last time. Protector's heart was filled with hatred, anger and bitterness. Underneath all that, there was fear at his imminent death, but also hope. It was as though Protector wished for death and yet feared it at the same time. Confused, Allie gauged his feelings further and detected a small flicker of warmth.

Warmth created by his memories of the wolf with the flame-coloured fur.

This made her hesitate, but Councillor urged her again in that overwhelming voice of his.

Allie looked at Councillor one more time before placing one of her fangs over the artery pulsing underneath the fur of Protector's neck.

"Protector," she said to him privately, "I think I understand your feelings of loyalty. You did well for the previous Queen, and I'm sure she appreciated all your efforts. However, for that same reason, you will never be able to serve another Queen, whether it is me or any other wolf."

Protector kept staring at her unblinkingly, his mouth stretched in a snarl.

"I have to let you know something though: during the death match, Queen and I fought fair and square when it was one to one," Allie stated softly. "But there had to be a winner."

"And the winner shouldn't have been you!" Protector snapped.

Allie closed her eyes. "Even if I understand what was driving your actions, I cannot spare you."

When she opened her eyes again, they were brimming with cold determination. "I'm going to kill you, not because you betrayed the pack, but because you were about to put the person most important to me in danger. You understand this, don't you? Queen was an important person to you."

The harsh glint in Protector's eyes receded a little. "Go ahead," he rasped. "I'm not scared of death."

Allie looked into his eyes one last time before puncturing his neck. Blood gushed out in a thick flow as the artery ruptured. Her grey eyes held those of Protector's until he breathed his last breath and his pupils became dull. Then, she walked away from the sight of the pool of blood forming around his unmoving body.

In front of her, Informant was already leaving, sauntering from rock to rock, his black fur confounding itself with the night sky surrounding them. Councillor followed behind him at his own pace, staring up at the full moon.

After one last glance at the body of Protector, Allie sprung on her legs and ran to catch up with the black wolf. "Informant."

"Yes?"

"It seems to me… that Protector had feelings for the previous Queen."

"Feelings?"

"A bond. Something deeper than mere loyalty. He was thinking of her warmly until the last second."

She didn't know why she was telling Informant this; she just felt that she couldn't keep this to herself.

Informant paused. "So he let his actions be ruled by petty feelings of love," he finally barked in disdain. "That fool!"

Allie was confused by Informant's outburst. Love? That was a term foreign to her. All she knew about love was that it could be corruptive and cruel. She knew the reason her father hated her was because he loved her mother and was devastated when her mother died giving birth to her. And just now, Protector had been craving for revenge when the person he loved had died. It was the same thing all over again. As a result, she was scared of love, for love was something that could drive a person mad. However, that feeling she had found in Protector's chest was something warm and pleasant; it wasn't something scary, nor cruel, nor destructive. She had found herself empathizing with that warm feeling inside of him in spite of her previous anger.

So was love good or bad?

"If I had tried earlier to reach out to him, perhaps he wouldn't have done everything he did. He was just very sad over her death," she mused sadly.

Informant swivelled around and one fierce yellow eye pierced through her. "Listen carefully. Protector was a pathetic wolf who set a despicable example. He deserved a more brutal death for straying from his path. Wolves have no use for foolish things such as love or friendship. We do not even know the meaning of those words. We do not feel, we just _are_, and we _do_."

"What kind of existence is that?" Allie countered with distaste.

"It is the existence that is ours. You will learn the reality of our lifestyle soon enough," he simply answered.

Allie was going to reply when she caught a particular scent. Her pupil rolled slightly towards the left. "Hunter is coming."

A second later, Hunter's huge frame appeared at the peak of a hill, giant dark shape against the moonlight. His gait was easy and flowing as he quickly caught up with them. He was holding something in his jaw.

Allie, Informant and Councillor all paused when Hunter opened his mouth and the head of the wolf that Protector was conversing with earlier rolled towards them.

"Hunter!" Allie growled, "what is the meaning of this?"

Hunter's unique eye riveted onto her. "You gave orders to stop that wolf from killing the two recruits, so I did. He was putting up a fight, so I killed him."

"You fool! You could have just injured him! Why kill him? You know he is the Protector of the Queen of the North Moors. You are just asking for open war! Why don't you think more before you act?"

Hunter froze for a second, puzzled by her words, before his fur stood on edge in fury. He towered over her, nearly three times as tall as she was, and snarled ferociously with his tail erected.

Allie bore her fangs in return. For the first time, she used the Blood to submit a wolf. She projected her will onto Hunter with all her might, daring him to move. Hunter slowly lowered his huge head, as though something was weighing him down.

The golden wolf's silver eyes continued bearing onto him, blazing ominously, until Hunter was forced to bend his legs into a submissive posture in front of her.

The phenomenon was quite puzzling to Allie. She felt as though an invisible hand was reaching out of her body to slowly push Hunter to the ground. It was not a particularly difficult task if she concentrated well.

Finally, Hunter lowered his gaze and let his tail drop. Allie waited for one more second before finally releasing him from the Blood. Hunter sucked in a deep breath and slowly stood straight again, tail still in a submissive posture.

"Now, now, what is done is done," Informant threw out placidly, amused by the whole scene.

"Those of the North Moors are inferior in numbers. They will think twice before they risk open war against us," Councillor added.

Allie relaxed a little at those words.

Followed by the core of the pack, she continued walking till they reached the ridge of the next hill, from where they had a plunging view over the entire territory of the North Downs, with the dense shape of the Old Forest further South.

"This is our territory," Councillor declared softly.

Little packs of wolves could be seen wandering around the downs, dark shapes against the land.

Looking upon them from above, warmth filled Allie's veins in spite of the cold night wind blowing over the desolate place. She turned to look at the three wolves standing behind her under the big round moon that seemed to fill half the sky, and they all looked back at her with bright eyes.

Planting her fore legs firmly on the sand and pushing forwards on her hind legs, she raised her eyes towards that bright round moon that brightened up the night and let out a long, heartfelt howl that lasted long seconds.

The wolves of her pack looked up at her golden figure at the peak of the rocky hill; one after the other, they stopped what they were doing, sat down on their hind legs and howled back.

Soon, the night was filled with their song.

Allie howled again, and again.

Informant, Councillor and Hunter went to stand beside her and added their howls to those of the rest of the pack.

The howls were resonating inside Allie's own soul as her blood pulsed fervently at each heart beat. It was the most intoxicating feeling she had ever experienced; at that one moment in the night, every wolf was interconnected as one entity through their song, and the same feeling of exaltation coursed through all of them.

Allie knew for the first time what the meaning of the word belongingness meant. As a hobbit, no matter how crowded in a place she had found herself in, she could never feel as connected to others as she was to the wolves in this instant. Right now, there were no boundaries between them, and there was no loneliness.

When the last howl died down and the night was quiet again, the golden wolf turned her silver eyes towards the other three.

Broadcasting her thoughts to all the wolves in her pack, she solemnly declared: "From this night on, I, Allie Brandybuck, accept to be your Queen. Obey me, follow me, and in return I will try my best to protect every single one of you."

Informant, Councillor and Hunter all bowed down submissively.

"Yes, Queen," they said.

"Yes, Queen." The other wolves in the pack chorused.

"However, you shall not call me Queen. That is way too impersonal. From now on, call me by my name. That is who I am. I might be in the position you all call "Queen", but I am far from being a queen. I have a lot to learn from all of you, and you can learn a lot from me as well."

The wolves complied with her demands easily.

"That is all," she finished and cut communication with them.

A sense of accomplishment was now filling her chest. After all, she had just made the single biggest decision of her life. Nothing would be the same again after this. She should have been scared, but all she felt at that moment was a feeling of ecstasy, and freedom, and joie de vivre; the big round moon shone down on her gently, like a silent witness.

However, that positive feeling was quickly dispelled in the next second when Informant spoke up again: "So", he said, "now it's time to find yourself a new Protector."

Allie could only stare.

"The core of the pack can never be out of balance for too long," Councillor explained calmly. "It needs its four members to run smoothly. That is the will of the Blood."

"Can I just choose anybody?" Allie asked.

The old brown wolf shook his head slowly. "It is an important position, so the Blood will choose for you. When you next see that person, the Blood Call will occur and you will have no choice but to bite him."

The golden wolf slowly swung her tail, troubled by this new complication arising.

But she had already dealt with learning how to be a wolf and with her first betrayal, so she could deal with this as well, couldn't she?

* * *

Hey guys! I hope you are doing well! Remember to take some time and leave me some comments at the end of each chapter; they make me super happy and give me inspiration to write ;) I'm counting on you guys! ;p

**1945:** Oh you guessed it! Good insight there haha! Yeah! She had to lose her brother twice! Poor her :( But it's ok, Frodo will comfort her, right? ;) or vice versa, like in this chapter 3 Thanks so much for the review! I hope you liked this chapter too :D


	26. Protector

**Protector**

Allie collapsed on her bed. Another tiresome day.

Ever since the wolves had mentioned the fact that she might throw herself at pretty much anyone if the Blood decided that person should become her Protector, she had been trying her best to avoid making eye contact with random strangers on the streets of Hobbiton.

She lied down leisurely on her bed until the hot and humid temperature forced her to seek some water to drink in the kitchen.

She paused upon seeing Frodo already there, making some ice tea. He glanced over his shoulder upon her arrival and quickly looked down at his task again, twirling the sugar spoon faster inside his cup.

She walked past him silently and filled her glass with tap water. She finished it in one big gulp and filled it again. This time, she sipped at it more slowly, her grey eyes set onto Frodo's back.

Ever since that day by the lake, something had changed between them. Frodo now always acted strangely whenever she was around, almost as though he was uncomfortable. Plus, whenever she tried speaking to him, he'd find an excuse to shy away. He also kept eye contact to a minimum. Allie almost felt as though he was mad at her for something. Perhaps he was embarrassed after all for letting her see him cry so much. But then, they had had a normal conversation afterward, so that could not have been the reason? However, him being embarrassed was the only explanation she could come up with. She really wanted to tell him that it was all right, and that he should just forget about it, but she didn't know how.

To tell the truth, she was a little embarrassed by it as well. But why should she be? She was just comforting a friend, wasn't she? It should be the same as the time she comforted Rosie and dried her tears after her cat had passed away.

Except that somehow it wasn't.

As she looked at Frodo's back, she wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came to mind. She thought about fighting with him and calling him a rascal like she usually did, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

She shook herself. She should be thinking about the matter of her Protector instead.

However, at this, her gaze travelled to Frodo again. She had always been scared that her Blood would choose Frodo to be her Protector, but that hadn't happened so far. It was reassuring. She would rather die than turn him into a wolf. It was not an easy life, and Frodo wasn't made out to lead the life of a killer.

She also freaked out whenever she saw the three idiots; if Lotho, Sancho or Ted ended up being her Protector, she was fairly certain she'd end up killing them too.

Councillor had told her Protector was someone who would be loyal to her all her life. It might be someone she knew or someone she hadn't yet met. So far, Frodo was the only person she trusted could be loyal to her no matter what, but the Blood hadn't chosen him. Therefore, it meant her Protector was probably someone she hadn't met yet. It was a realization that soothed and troubled her at the same time.

She put the empty glass inside the sink and turned to leave.

"Allie?"

Allie twirled around expectantly. "Yes?"

Frodo blushed a little upon seeing her bright smile, and lowered his gaze. "Before he left to go home, Pippin told me to convey you a message. He said… that he is really mad at you for evading him all summer, and said that you must make it up to him when he comes over for Yule."

She nodded seriously. It was true; it hadn't been very nice of her to avoid Pippin when he couldn't even come and visit that often. "Aren't Merry and Berilac also coming over for Yule?"

"Yes," Frodo said, still twirling his spoon.

She looked up at Frodo, waiting to see if he had anything else to tell her, but he was now silently sipping his ice tea without looking at her.

The silence stretched uncomfortably.

"Well, in that case, I'm going to see Rosie for a while."

Frodo threw her a fleeting glance. "All right."

"So… I will get going," she announced awkwardly.

"Yes."

"See you later."

"See you."

She walked out of the kitchen and let out a sigh.

This was bad. Really bad.

At the door, she saw Marigold coming over and gave her a small wave. Marigold smiled. "Is Frodo inside?"

"Yes."

"Thank you!" she beamed and rushed past her to enter Bag-End.

When Allie was out in the garden, she turned to peer through the kitchen window and saw Marigold and Frodo conversing already. Frodo was even smiling.

Allie frowned. "That rascal! What is his problem anyway? Ugh! Even after I went out of my way to comfort him and everything! And he said he would be with me forever! But he decides to be a stranger now? Fine!" she muttered under her breath as she stomped away.

On top of that, Marigold had been coming over a lot lately, and she was always talking with Frodo about something or another. When Allie thought of the ease Marigold talked with Frodo, an unpleasant feeling unfurled in her chest. It was quite troubling, and slightly annoying, but she didn't know how to make it go away.

Was it a side effect of being a wolf?

She shook her head to forget about it all and ran towards Rosie's house, lowering her head whenever she saw a hobbit up ahead on the road.

Rosie was out playing in the garden when she saw Allie coming. The two girls smiled at each other and chatted for a few minutes.

"Today I was thinking about Berilac," Allie suddenly said.

"The lad who confessed to you?"

"Yes. I think I finally understand how he must have felt back then. He told me to remember that he liked me first." She sighed. "I feel like I owe him an apology."

"You should apologize and then reject him," Rosie declared dramatically.

Allie pouted. "Do I have to?"

"Of course!" Rosie exclaimed. "That is only the right thing to do. If you don't, he will always be holding onto the false hope that one day you will come to like him." She looked at her through one eye. "Do you think that might happen?"

Allie tried picturing liking Berilac, but failed. Rosie read the answer in her puzzled expression and smiled. "In that case, you should tell him properly so as to draw closure on this thing."

"But he'll be sad," she muttered. "I know I was when Reg rejected me."

"Still, you must," Rosie affirmed gravely.

Allie sighed. "All right, all right, I will do that next time I see him."

"And speaking of that prick," Rosie said, referring to Reg, "you never told me properly why he dumped you."

She cringed a little at the word "dump", but then she turned her back towards Rosie and lost herself in contemplation of the stream flowing nearby.

"I think… I owe Reg an apology too."

Rosie's eyes were furious when she walked to face Allie. "Why should you? He was the one who should be apologizing!"

"I did something wrong to him," Allie murmured. "I showed him a side of me that I shouldn't have showed. I didn't do it on purpose, but I feel bad that he had to see… _that_."

Rosie was a little confused by her words, but she still grabbed Allie's shoulder determinedly. "Don't you dare apologize to him, ever! If you do, I will be mad at you forever!"

Allie looked up uncertainly into her blazing hazel eyes. "Well, if you are going to be so adamant about it, I suppose can refrain from apologizing."

"What you should do next time you see him is what Frodo did to him last time: punch him in the face!"

"Frodo punched Reg?"

Rosie cleared her throat a little upon seeing disbelief wash over her friend's face. "Yes! That's what he told me. And I said bravo!"

"When did this happen?"

"Let's see… it was the day he dumped you – Allie made a face again at the word – Frodo told me he ran after you but lost you. He did end up catching up to Reg however, and then he punched him."

Allie's eyes were wide. "Truly? But Frodo has never thrown the first punch, ever! And I didn't even know that. I wonder why Frodo did that?"

"Is it not obvious? He was angry on your behalf."

Allie thought about it. That sounded like something Frodo would do for her.

Then, a thought crossed her mind. "Why did Frodo tell you this?"

Rosie shrugged. "It just came up in conversation a few days after Reg and you broke up. We were talking about you, actually. He said he hadn't seen you for awhile and was thinking perhaps you were still depressed over Reg. Then, he got upset and said that if Reg was still in town, he would punch him again. So I said: "wait, you've already done it once already?", and it went from there."

Allie was shuffling on her feet a little. When Rosie finished talking, she bit her lip and asked: "Rosie, last time I asked you if you liked someone, and you said maybe."

Rosie's eyes widened at the sudden change in topic, which left her speechless for a while.

"Please answer yes or no to the question this time!" Allie pursued. "I always tell you everything, so it should be fair!"

Rosie stared at her, slightly dumbfounded, and played a little with her hair, blushing. "Well… yes… there is someone that I like a tiny little bit."

Allie stepped forward. "Is it someone I know?"

Rosie blushed harder. "Erm… yes?"

"Who is it?" she urged.

Rosie really did not feel like revealing his name though. She knew Allie would laugh at her if she did; after all, Allie always made fun of Sam when she talked about him. However, Allie was now looking at her intently, and Rosie felt pressured to answer. Sighing, she was thinking of how to announce Sam's name favourably when Allie's patience ran out and she point-blank asked:

"Is it Frodo?"

Rosie froze for a second, scanning Allie's impatient gaze with a blank face. Then, she got it and had to try her hardest not to burst out laughing like a crazy person.

Instead, she flashed Allie an impish smile. "Why do you think it is Frodo, Allie?"

Allie was taken aback at this. "Well, it is simply a guess, but I remember that when you first met him, you said he was cute." She eyed Rosie quickly. "And Frodo also tells you things he doesn't tell me, like punching Reg."

Rosie couldn't help it, she let out a chuckle. Allie saw this and felt herself becoming upset. "So?" she asked loudly. "It is him, isn't it?"

Rosie slowly inched her face closer to Allie's, and Allie leaned back a little. "What are you going to do if I say yes?"

Allie frowned for a second, before she huffed and threw her hair behind her shoulders. "Me? Nothing. What does this have to do with me? I was just curious about the person you like, Rosie."

Rosie remained silent.

"Will you not answer?" Allie pressed again.

Rosie sighed, ready to tell her that it wasn't Frodo, when her eyes suddenly shone with an idea. "No, I'm not going to answer."

Allie was about to stomp her foot when Rosie pursued: "If you think there is something going on between me and Frodo, why don't you go ask him what he thinks?"

Rosie paused to let the words sink in. "Ask him if there is someone he likes."

Allie frowned. "Why will you not tell me yourself?"

But Rosie just stuck her tongue out at her and quickly ran back to her house.

"Wait!" Allie shouted and ran after her, but Rosie closed the door on her face. "Just ask him!" came her voice from the other side of the door.

Allie sighed grumpily and left her be. She couldn't understand Rosie's mind at all sometimes. Should she really ask Frodo if he liked someone? She shook her head violently. There was no way she was going to ask such an embarrassing question to him, ever.

"Forget it, forget it," she muttered to herself.

She didn't even know why it was so important that she confirm whether the person Rosie liked was Frodo or not. She didn't understand some of her own actions lately.

Maybe it was another side-effect of being a wolf.

After school, on one September afternoon, Frodo decided to take a different route from the one he usually took to go home. The path he chose that day led him to where the Party Tree was. In Hobbiton, the Party Tree was the place of celebration for big events such as weddings, big birthdays and welcoming distinguished guests.

Today, the place was empty.

Frodo stood still for a moment, marvelling at the height of the tree and at its dense foliage balancing softly in the wind. Its trunk was so thick that it probably would take ten hobbits holding hands to make the tour of it.

Frodo squinted when he detected movement at the base of the tree. Then, his eyes widened and he quickly rushed down the slope on top of which he was standing.

When he arrived at the base of the tree, he saw a rope passed over one of the high branches of the tree, and already midway upwards from the ground, Allie was holding onto the rope while trying to climb up.

"Allie!" Frodo shouted in alarm. "What are you doing? Come back down!"

Allie peeked downwards at the sound of his voice, and smiled when she saw who it was. Her movements became quicker as she hurried to climb up the last meter stretching between her and the lowest branch.

Frodo followed her movements nervously.

Once her feet were steadily on the branch, she peeked down from amid the green foliage and dared him to follow her up.

"No way! This is insane!"

"You can do it!"

"It's not a matter of whether I can do it or not! I don't want to do it! A fall from this height can kill you!"

"You will not fall! You have to trust in your own abilities. Come up!"

Allie was beaming down at him widely while beckoning to him with one hand.

Frodo's mind was screaming at him that it was suicidal to follow Allie on her crazy enterprises, but his hands were already holding onto the rope without his assent. Pulling on it nervously, he then started to climb with his feet pressed upon the bark.

"Don't look down… don't look down…" he told himself as he progressed on his ascent.

The rope squeaked every time he pulled on it, and he gulped down nervously. Finally, the branch where Allie was standing on appeared into view. Frodo's relief was short-lived however, as he suddenly spotted the place where the rope had been rubbing against the wood all this time; that part was way thinner than the rest, only holding on by three more strands.

"The rope…" Frodo creaked in a dry voice.

Fear made him pull on the rope harder, and it snapped. Frodo shrieked and let go of the rope at the same time as he threw his arms upwards. His hands closed onto the branch as his whole body dangled in the air.

Allie also let out a cry of alarm and quickly seized his wrist. With her help, Frodo finally managed to get himself up onto the thick branch.

"I knew this was a bad idea!" he panted as he held onto the higher branches till his knuckles turned white.

Allie patted his shoulder. "I wouldn't have let you fall."

Then, she contemplated the broken rope lying in a heap on the grass. "Uh-oh," she said gravely, "we can't go back down now."

Frodo realized this too and his face became even whiter than it already was. "We are stuck here?"

From where they were, the ground seemed extremely far away.

He wanted to pull on his hair out of despair, but his hands were too busy holding onto the tree. "I don't know why I did this! I should have known better than to follow you!"

Allie chuckled. "It's too late for regrets! Come on!"

Frodo saw her climbing again. "You want to go higher?"

"It's safer up here," her voice reached him from among the leaves, "we can rest for a bit as we think of a way to get down."

Frodo sighed hopelessly and followed her up.

The trunk in the middle was the thickest one, and smaller branches grew out of it to extend outwards horizontally. Allie sat on those of those branches as she held onto the middle trunk. Frodo carefully joined her, but on the other side.

"Maybe if we scream for help, someone will hear and pass us another rope," he suggested.

"We can try," she said dubiously, "but few hobbits actually come here when there are no parties."

Frodo knocked his head against the middle trunk he was holding onto. "What mess did we get ourselves into this time?"

Allie beamed cheerfully as she swung her legs in the air. She wasn't preoccupied in the slightest. "Don't worry Frodo, I can always become a wolf and jump down from here. And then, I will pass you another rope and you will be able to get down too."

She suppressed a giggle upon seeing the relief on his face. She also realized happily that they were talking normally for the first time in days. To be honest, she had been surprised when Frodo had decided to follow her up here, but now she was just content.

"Why are you climbing trees? Don't you have wolf things to attend to?" Frodo muttered.

"I have never climbed such a tall tree before, so I had to give it a try! As for wolf matters, I transform once every day to get a feel of how things are in the pack. Ever since Protector died, it has been very peaceful. I told the wolves to patrol our territory daily and chase away all the intruders. Informant is also keeping track of those of the North Moors, but so far there is no suspicious movement from their side. Everyone has something to do to keep themselves busy, and the overall mood of the pack is pleasant. I think things are going well."

She finished her report and felt pride swirl up in her chest.

"Being a normal wolf should be difficult already," Frodo pondered softly. "I cannot imagine how much more difficult it must be to actually lead so many of them."

Allie put one finger to her chin in thought. "I thought it would be pretty impossible as well, and that's why I first hesitated to accept the responsibilities, but… how do I say this... it's true that it's hard, but I'm feeling optimistic. Besides, being a wolf can come in handy sometimes..." At this, she threw Frodo a meaningful glance that he missed because he was looking in front of him. "Anyway," she resumed, "the decisions come to me naturally, so I think I should be able to do a good job. All of these wolves, they were people before. They all come from different backgrounds, different races even. Somehow fate has brought them all together into this pack. It is a mysterious thing…"

Frodo gazed at her bright face for a moment. "It feels like you are so far away," he whispered. "You are living in a totally different world altogether now."

Allie grabbed onto the trunk and leaned a little to look at him. His face seemed sad.

They were both holding onto the central branch with one hand; Allie slid hers down by a few centimetres until it touched Frodo's. Frodo's eyes startled up at the touch.

"What are you talking about? – Allie's eyes were gentle – how can we be in different worlds when I can touch you so easily? Whether I'm a wolf or a hobbit, I can always touch you like this. We are definitely living in the same world right now. Besides, I'm not sure if I even believe in the existence of other worlds."

Frodo stared back at her in wonder for a moment, before smiling back. "You are right. That was a silly thing of me to say."

Allie nodded energetically. "You always say the silliest things."

Their hands were still brushing against each other's.

"Are you still that embarrassed about crying for your parents that day?" Allie asked him straight-forwardly.

"I'm not embarrassed about crying!" he protested immediately.

"Yes, you are! That's why you have been acting strange ever since." Her tone was accusing.

"It's not because of that!" He bit his lip.

Allie leaned over curiously. "What is it about, then?"

Frodo looked over nervously as a blush crept onto his face.

"Frodo!" Allie exclaimed in a pouty voice. "You never tell me things! I bet that what you don't want to tell me right now, you have already told Rosie!"

Frodo frowned. "No."

Allie's grey eyes scanned his face suspiciously, but he seemed sincere enough.

"Why would I tell Rosie?" he added incredulously.

She leaned back uncomfortably. "I don't know. But you told her about punching Reg, and you didn't tell me."

She surveyed his expression from the corner of her eye, and saw him getting worked up. "Wha… How did you… Well, I just thought you would be mad at me if I told you that, since you liked that little twerp!"

She huffed. "I don't care! You need to tell me things from now on, even if you think it will make me mad. And besides, I would not have been mad at you for punching Reg! I understand why you did it. It's probably the same thing as me beating up Lotho, Sancho and Ted when they hurt you. So from now on, you have to tell me everything."

Her face looked determined. Frodo frowned for a second more before sighing. "Yes ma'am."

Allie leaned back on the branch, satisfied. "Good. So, now you can start by telling me why you have been acting strange."

Frodo thought he had managed to avoid that topic.

"I have not been acting strange…" he muttered unconvincingly.

"You barely look at me when you talk to me. That classifies as strange, coming from you."

Frodo sighed and pulled a little on his dark curls. "It's… it's just that… on that day when you came over to me in your wolf form…" His eyes shuffled to her face. "You were not even concerned about other hobbits seeing you. You just wanted to comfort me… and that made me realize clearly, for the first time, that I…"

Frodo's words slurred to a halt and he couldn't go on. Allie looked into his eyes and suddenly a feeling of nervousness descended upon her. Playing with a pan of her shirt, she waited.

"I realized that I…" he tried again, but then his cheeks turned crimson red.

Taking in a deep breath, he finally lied: "I realized that I _really_ am not scared of you anymore."

Allie frowned deeply. "What? What kind of realization is this? You already told me before that you were not scared of me anymore, and I know you meant it the first time."

"Yes, but this time I realized it clearly," Frodo was babbling, "and these last few days I have been thinking about how I could have ever feared you to begin with, so I didn't know how to face you…"

Allie narrowed her eyes.

"Is that _really_ why you were acting strange?"

"Yes!" Frodo exclaimed loudly. "Why else?"

Allie sighed and decided to let him off the hook.

Frodo cleared his throat as the red faded somewhat from his cheeks. "In any case, it wasn't because I was embarrassed of letting you see me cry."

His face turned serious. "I have always only felt comfortable crying in front of my parents," he confessed. "When I was younger and whenever something upsetting happened, I would always hold it in until I got home. I didn't want my friends to see me cry because I have always wanted them to think of me as a reliable person. Even when I was really young, I already understood that concept."

Allie brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and listened.

"After my parents died, I didn't know what to do or who to turn to anymore. Every day, I felt like crying, but every day, I told myself that I had to hold it in, or otherwise my other relatives and all my friends would worry about me and pity me." His eyes hardened. "I did not want their pity, so I decided to be strong for my own sake. There was only me now, and I couldn't rely on my parents any longer, so I felt as though I had to hold it in and put on a brave front. But… on that day, I couldn't do it anymore."

He sighed. "But the thing is, I had it all wrong. After really crying, I felt a lot better about everything. I felt like I could finally accept the reality of their death."

He smiled. "Thank you for being there for me."

Allie stared down at her lap awkwardly. "Yes." She leaned her head against the wood and said: "Losing your family is the hardest thing."

She thought back to the moment Robin died, and closed her eyes for a moment. "You wonder… if you have done enough for them when they were alive. You wonder how they really thought of you when they were alive. You suddenly come to realize that there were still so many things you didn't know about them."

Frodo nodded, thinking back to Lotho's cutting words.

Allie's voice cut through his thoughts. "There was something I wanted to tell you on that day by the lake, but I couldn't, because I was in wolf form."

"What did you want to say?"

Allie twirled her hair a little. "That day, you were upset and kept saying it wasn't true that your father killed your mother, and I realized that must have been bothering you for a while now." She wet her lips nervously. "At this point, you should know better than to believe anything that stupid Lotho says. Actually… I was there… the day your parents drowned."

Frodo jerked his head up, searching her gaze, but this time it was Allie who looked away. "I didn't see them drowning, but I saw them moments before when they were on their boat."

"It's impossible that your father hurt your mother after that," she spoke up with certainty. "Because when I saw them, they looked as though they had wandered out of a painting. They were close together, and were watching the sunset. I have never seen anything so beautiful in my entire life. For two people to be so close to each other and to be so kind to the people around them, it is such a rare thing. Your parents were really good people, Frodo. And you are lucky to have them as parents. I'm sure they are still looking over you from wherever they are, even now. They want the best for you, always."

She played with her thumbs. "After I learned about their accident… I really wished I had stayed for a moment longer… perhaps then I could have saved them. I'm really sorry, Frodo. I should have stayed five minutes longer. And I should have told you all this earlier."

After she uttered the last word, the silence stretched.

Finally, she dared look over at him. However, he was staring down at his lap and his bangs hid his expression from view. But his hand was tight around the tree.

She bit her lip nervously and wondered if he was going to get angry at her for only telling him this now.

That is why when he finally turned towards her, she was overcome. His eyes were shining with tears, but he had a genuinely warm smile on his face. He looked so stunning that it knocked her breath away and made her heart stop.

"I always wondered how their last minutes were," he said in a thick voice. "But, knowing that they were happy and close to each other in their final moments really means a lot to me. Thank you for telling me, Allie."

He wiped his eyes dry and looked up at the dense green foliage above their heads. "Now, I can finally send them off with a smile."

Allie took the time to breathe in properly, but the feeling of being stunned refused to fade. Frodo was saying something else now, but there was a drumming sound in her ears and she couldn't hear a word he was uttering. Slowly, her hand crept up her shirt and rested on her chest. She could feel the vibrations from her heart beating wildly as though it wanted to explode. Somehow, it was a feeling even more encompassing than when she transformed into a wolf.

For a moment, she was scared that it was just that; that she was transforming. However, a glance down at her hands informed her that she was still in hobbit form. If that was so, why was she feeling this way?

"Allie?"

Frodo's voice reached her ears through the wild concert her heart was giving, and she jerked her head up, looking like a deer caught in headlights. For some reason, looking into his face made matters worse. Much worse.

"It is time to go," was what she thought she said (she wasn't even sure anymore), before she jumped down from the branch she was sitting on and landed on the ground below as a wolf.

"Allie!" Frodo called out from above, surprised.

The wolf's grey eyes peeked up at him for a second, before she bounced away in search of another rope.

* * *

_A few days later_

A small drizzle fell from the skies, interspersed with moments of sunshine. The golden wolf raised her head and thought the rain droplets seemed to be falling from the sun itself.

_A sunshower_, she thought.

It was rare to see that in the Shire where it was either thunderstorms or regular rain all the time.

_Maybe something good will happen today_, she thought again to herself.

She resumed her run through the countryside of the Northfarthing while being careful not to be spotted by any of the farmers working in the fields.

As usual, she connected herself with those of her pack via the Blood and asked for reports of what was going on. She got several replies from the recruits saying that things were going well. Hunter informed her that the group of gazelles his unit had been tracking was moving towards the South, so the pack would be following them there.

Allie jumped over a stream and gave Hunter the green light to do as he pleased.

Councillor was with the pack, but she actually sensed Informant nearby. Informant greeted her and said he would remain behind with his unit to keep an eye on the movements of those of the North Moors.

"Ever since their Protector died, the Queen has been very unsettled. She is in the same situation as you are in now; she is seeking her own Protector."

Allie acknowledged that and retreated from the Blood. It was about time because she was just about to run into a tree. She had noticed that when she used the Blood, she couldn't keep her focus well on the physical world around her. She was still not entirely good at doing this, she knew.

She sniffed the wind and realized that she had travelled quite far from Hobbiton that day. In fact, she was close to Tuckborough, where Pippin lived. She could already see the lines of big smials zigzagging among the low hills in the distance.

She checked the position of the sun in the sky and saw it was late afternoon. Pippin was probably off school and heading home. Perhaps she could visit him real fast.

The horses neighed madly and the other farm animals all let out cries of alarm when she approached; she let a small bag fall from her jaws and transformed back into hobbit form. She took out her clothes from the bag and put them on quickly, hiding behind the stable doors. The horses were eyeing her suspiciously, their nostrils flaring. Even when she was in hobbit form, animals were still ill at ease in her presence.

Then, she sneaked to the vicinity of the Great Smial pertaining to the Thain household. There, she waited under the cover of a tree, impatient to see Pippin.

However, she waited for a long time until the night fell, and there was still no sign of him. She frowned and wondered where he had gone to after school. Finally, when she was about to leave, she saw a silhouette coming from the road. A second later, Pippin's dark blonde hair bobbed into view.

He entered through the door, and Allie immediately heard the voice of his mother yelling at him for being so late. She muffled a quiet laugh and slowly crept along the walls of the Great Smials till she reached the window she knew pertained to his room.

After fifteen minutes or so, the light finally came on inside his room. Allie peeked across the window and saw Pippin letting himself fall on his bed with a gloomy face. He must have received quite a lecture from his parents.

Pippin looked up in surprise when she knocked against the windowpane. His features suddenly lit up as he scrambled to his feet and rushed to open the window.

"Allie! What are you doing here?" he yelled excitedly.

"Shhh!" Allie put a finger against her lips.

"Oh… right!" Pippin whispered in an undertone.

Allie jumped over the edge of the window to land inside Pippin's room.

"What are you doing here?" Pippin repeated animatedly, but this time mindful to keep his voice low.

"I was…" she paused and thought about it. "Well, I was off exploring again since Hobbiton is getting boring. Without realizing, I came to Tuckborough, so I came to see you." She smiled. "You know, to make up for my absence when you came to Hobbiton for the summer."

Pippin's smile faded and he crossed his arms across his chest moodily. "Yes, about that. What were you doing?"

She scratched her cheek. "I guess Frodo didn't tell you about Reg."

His eyes glared. "He did. But just because of that? You are a fool, Allie! Why were you so bothered by a lad like him?"

Pippin continued lecturing her as she sat down on the floor and put up a contrite face. Truth be told, whatever sadness or anger she had felt towards Reg had long been overshadowed by the whole wolf thing. Now, she barely thought about him at all. She understood why he had been scared, but still, it wasn't something she could control, so he didn't need to have reacted so strongly and called her a freak. Frodo not only saw the shining eyes, but also her whole transformation into a wolf, and yet he hadn't forsaken her.

Wait, why was she thinking about Frodo again?

She shook herself internally and told herself to snap out of it. Ever since that day on the tree, Frodo's face kept popping up in her head when she least expected it. She couldn't even sleep well because whenever she closed her eyes, she kept seeing him smiling at her through his tears. And then, she would toss and turn in her bed with her heart acting all weird in her chest. She had never felt anything like that in her whole life; she was starting to wonder whether she had caught some strange sickness.

"Allie, are you listening to me?"

She snapped her head up. "Yes, Pippin," she lied with a smile.

Pippin sat down on the bed wearily and wiped away wet strands of hair from his forehead. Allie noticed for the first time that his clothes were humid.

"Why did you come back so late? I waited for you for a long time."

"I went to play by the river with some of my friends after school. We even caught a fish!" he declared proudly.

She chuckled. "That sounds like fun!"

Pippin came to kneel in front of her and took her hands, wearing a broad smile. "Allie, if you are so bored in Hobbiton, you can move to Tuckborough! We have lots of empty rooms here in the Great Smials! If you live here, we could play every day!"

She was thoughtful at this for a moment. "I like to live in Hobbiton," she finally said. "It's a nice place and I have made a lot of friends there."

Pippin's face fell. "It really isn't fair, you know? You have been neighbours with Merry, and now you are living with Frodo, but we always live so far apart from each other. I can only see you during the summer and on Yule."

Allie squeezed Pippin's hands. "Since I have a lot of free time lately, I will come to visit you all the time. It's easy for me to move around now!"

Seeing Pippin's confused expression, she quickly added: "I'm really familiar with the roads now. It doesn't take me long to come here."

"Then, can you come every weekend?" Pippin asked with shiny eyes.

Allie nodded enthusiastically. Pippin let go of her hands and did a happy dance.

Seeing Pippin so elated made her heart thump happily as well. "But Pippin, are you really that happy that we are friends?"

Pippin cocked an eyebrow at her. "Of course! I am so happy to have met you."

She beamed. "Me too!" she leaned in confidentially. "Don't tell this to anyone else, but I have the most fun when I'm with you."

Pippin nodded eagerly. "Me too!"

"I can't wait till Yule when you, Merry and Berilac will all come to Hobbiton."

His green eyes sparkled. "I have something feisty planned out for this year's Yule."

"Probably not as feisty as what I know is in store!" she whispered mysteriously.

Pippin clung to her and begged her to tell him, but she refused to budge. In fact, Frodo had told her about Gandalf's visit. It would be her first time seeing a real Wizard, and the Wizard from Bilbo's story nonetheless! Bilbo said Gandalf always brought over fireworks when he visited; she was extremely excited to see those, and she knew Pippin would fall over on his head if he learned about that, so she wanted to keep it a secret and surprise him.

"You will enjoy it more without knowing what it is!" she finally said, laughing, as she tried to pry him off her.

Pippin sat back and pouted. "Fine."

Allie looked around the room till her gaze fell on a familiar object. In two strides she was by Pippin's desk, from where she seized a rock with a face carved on it. She stared at it in wonder till Pippin came to peek over her shoulder and smiled: "That's the rock you gave me after our first summer playing together!"

"You still have this? I totally forgot about this until now!"

Pippin pointed at the face carved into the stone. "I never got to asking you this but… is that supposed to be me?"

Allie rubbed over the face with her thumb. "Yes. I tried to make you as good looking as I could, but you still ended up with a triangular face. I'm sorry."

Pippin huffed indignantly.

"Throw this away. I will draw you a new one. I promise I will make it better."

Pippin pointed at her. "Yes! You better mend my image!"

After that, they fell silent for a moment as the candle's flame danced a little in the room. Allie caught herself thinking that this summer was already drawing to an end. So many things had happened… things that she could not even talk to Pippin about. She wondered if her secret would draw her further and further away from her friends as time passed by.

_Not from Frodo._ The voice inside her head whispered.

And there it was again! Why did everything have to go back to Frodo? She gritted her teeth in confused frustration. If he popped up again in her head like this one more time…! She didn't know what she would do.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Pippin asked as he eyed the lines in her forehead.

"Frodo…" she muttered distractedly.

"What about Frodo?"

She looked up suddenly in alarm. "No! I'm not thinking about Frodo!"

Pippin was gaping at her now, and she twirled her thumbs in a frenzy. "Well... I'm thinking of him indirectly. That's because... it's going be his birthday soon. I was just wondering if I should get him a present," she invented quickly.

"Why would you? If it's Frodo's birthday and he holds a party, he's supposed to give you something. That's how we do things in the Shire."

She frowned. "What a weird thing to do. In Bree, you give other people presents on their birthday."

Pippin was intrigued by this and started asking her questions about how people in Bree celebrated their birthdays; Allie sighed in relief upon leaving behind the subject matter of Frodo.

"I have not celebrated my birthday with you yet!" Pippin suddenly said. "See? This is what happens when we live so far apart. I'm telling you, you need to move here to Tuckborough in a couple of years! You have lived in Buckland and Hobbiton already, so isn't it about time that you come here instead?"

Allie fell silent at this. She tried picturing herself in a couple of years, but failed. At this rate, she couldn't even predict what would happen to her tomorrow. The wolves were predators and there were always a lot of fights over food and territory. What if she got killed? Or what if the Blood decided she was not worthy anymore, thus invoking the Blood Call to make her bite another female? Her future had never been so uncertain.

Pippin was talking so lightly about his future self, but by then, she suddenly had a dark premonition that maybe she wouldn't even be in the Shire anymore.

"In a couple of years," she started in an undertone, "I might not be here."

He was shocked. "What do you mean? Where would you go?"

The flame of the candle flickered slightly in her eyes. "I don't know. Perhaps somewhere far from here."

Suddenly, Pippin's determined face entered her field of vision. "You better take me with you then!"

Seeing her stunned expression, he smiled widely: "Allie, I will follow you wherever you will go, so if you are going somewhere, take me with you."

A soft light danced in Allie's eyes as she gazed upon Pippin's round face, with his light brown hair, sparkling green eyes, and mouth always ready to laugh. "Thank you, Pippin. Hearing that means the world to me."

As soon as her voice died down, a giant pulse suddenly erupted throughout her body.

She seized her arms violently and tried to suppress it. _Why is this happening?_ she thought manically, eyes rolling right and left, distraught. She thought she had the transformation under control!

Another pulse, stronger than the first, shook her to the core.

Pippin sensed that something was wrong. "Allie?"

Allie looked up at Pippin's worried face and tried to stand up and leave from the window, but as soon as she tried to move, the pulses submerged her like waves, making her lose her balance and land on her hands and knees.

She started panting as she tried her best to suppress the impending transformation. "Not now…please…" she moaned.

Pippin shook her shoulder worriedly. "Allie? What's wrong with you?"

At the contact, she looked up at him abruptly through her wild curls and snarled. His face looked red… or was it her eyes? She quickly looked around, and there was no mistake; everything seemed the color of blood. The Blood was soaking into her brain, making it impossible for her to think. As she sensed the transformation taking her over, it was as though a switch turned off inside of her, leaving her in the dark.

_Through morning light and evening gloom_

"P-Pippin… quick…" she panted, eyes wide but unseeing.

"Yes! I'm here!" Pippin's panicked voice reached her ears.

_Like a shadow, by my side you shall be_

She shook her head as she felt her teeth growing. "Run!" she growled. "Run away!"

_My trust is the sword I put in your sheath_

Pippin just sat there staring at her, stunned. As though in a dream, he watched as a golden wolf exploded out of Allie's clothes and stood there in front of him, eyes red and saliva running down the side of its mouth.

_By the Blood you and I are now one_

A second later, Pippin was pinned to the floor of his room by the weight of the giant wolf. His brain could only register the color of the ceiling (it was a nondescript creamy beige) as the wolf sank its teeth in his shoulder.

_In life and in death, your loyalty will be mine_

And then suddenly, the pressure on his chest was gone as the wolf sauntered away from him after jerking its fangs out of his flesh after a single bite. The moment the first stream of blood ran down the side of his body, scorching pain made him curl around in a ball and scream out at the top of his lungs.

Soon there were footsteps along the halls of the Great Smials as first Pippin's sisters, followed by his parents, rushed into his room. The unique candle had been blown out, and the only light illuminating the dark room came from the stars outside the open window.

And there, in the middle of room, there was only Pippin holding his shoulder and wriggling in pain. Wind was blowing inside through the open window, making the curtains dance, casting eerie shadows on the floor.

_For Protector you shall become._

* * *

I bet you didn't see that coming lol :p

Anyway, I'm posting this chapter early because I will be super busy over the weekend. I hope you all enjoyed reading this, and that you will leave me a couple of reviews! I haven't heard back from some of you for awhile, so I was wondering if you guys are still reading this story? And if yes, what do you think of the recent developments? :o

**Riddlemethis:** thank you SO much! I was a little nervous when the wolf chapters started too. I didn't know how most of the people would take that. Like you said, it is a pretty a dramatic aspect, and especially a novel aspect that is not really from the LotR universe. Wolves are mentioned attacking the Shire in the past, but that is all. However, I chose to upgrade them from being mere animals, so I didn't know how that would turn out. That's why I'm so glad you are still loving this! Means a lot to me, really! :) And I love writing Informant :p He's a true wolf through and through, unlike the others, right?

**1945:** Well, your question has been answered. Yes, Frodo was the obvious choice, so that's why I couldn't make Allie bite him haha. But also, there are other reasons, one of them being the plot as we head into the quest of the Ring part of the story. Although... who knows what might happen then... I haven't written that part yet. :p Thanks so much for your review! always love hearing from you! :D

**Mallory:** I'm like so darn touched by your words right now. Your reviews literally make my week, honest! Yeah, I was so happy writing that scene where Frodo and Allie tell each other they are their most important persons. That scene is the first hint of romance between them, which I was dying to write since the beginning, but I couldn't rush it because technically they are still kids who don't know a thing about love and the like. I'm taking it slow and really building on their budding relationship. This chapter had more of that, so I hope you liked it haha! Mmm yes, a lot of readers predicted Frodo to be bitten, but it wasn't him after all. :p As for your question of whether Allie will have to choose the wolves or Frodo, all I can tell you is that some of it will be revealed soon, in the next two chapters. But that is indeed one of Allie's main struggles in this story, and I'm so glad you caught on it already! And all of your other questions/predictions will also be dealt with by then. Thank you so much for all your words of encouragements! Indeed, writing can be tough sometimes. I'm now looking upon the daunting task of undertaking part 3 of the story with the quest of the ring. I need to make some drafts for the plot because apart from the ending and some key scenes, everything else is still pretty muddy lol. Sometimes I wish there's a machine to make my ideas appear on paper in the form of words so that I don't need to write them down. How much easier would that be? :p But also less fun, I admit. Ok, but no matter what, I promise I will see this story through to the end. Usually, I don't like to let things hanging anyway. I've only abandoned one fanfic before, and then I deleted it altogether from the website because I didn't see the point of letting the readers read something that would always be incomplete. So don't worry, it might take me some time to write everything since this is a complicated story, but I will eventually get to it. And your reviews definitely help A LOT. I already feel more motivated after typing this message lol (and omg, it's so long already! XD).

Wow, how did this idea come to me? Well, years ago, I was thinking of writing an original story with one of the main characters as a woman who could transform into a panther. That story was originally set into an original fantasy world. The thing is, I never got around to writing it, but I guess the idea of it never left. So lately I was watching the LotR DVDs for the like 100th time and I fell in love with this world all over again. I thought of writing a fic for it, and immediately the idea of a young girl turning into an intelligent predator came to me. Since Frodo is my fave character, I was like, ok, I'm gonna make the girl a hobbit. And I remember there being mention of wolves in the books as part of the history of the Shire or something. And Middle Earth is a land full of fantasy creatures, the Wargs being one of them, so I thought why not bring this concept one notch higher and let people actually transform into wolves? It wouldn't be too far fetched in a world where there are Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, dragons and any creature you can possibly think of. But the stuff with Informant, Councillor, etc, all that came later. Yeah... basically that's how it is.

Lmao ok, I just wrote a novel. But I got to say, I really enjoy talking about all this with you! You mentioned that you are a writer as well, so what kind of stories do you write? Since you are not signed in, I can't stalk your profile lmao ;)


	27. The Open Grave

**The Open Grave**

Frodo sighed as he dragged his feet along the road stretching between the Green Dragon and Bag-End. That night, Sam, Rosie, Marigold and some other kids their age had decided to go try out beers at the Green Dragon. Frodo hadn't felt like going, but they had forced him. He also hadn't thought drinking alcohol was a good idea at their age, but they had forced him to do that too.

And now, tipsy and feeling a little nauseous, he tried to walk in a straight line as he headed home.

Movement ahead on the road attracted his attention. Blinking, he tried to focus, and managed to make out something rushing towards him at high speed.

Some kind of animal.

A dog?

A wolf.

Suddenly, he felt alert as he started running towards the familiar looking wolf, throwing quick glances to both sides of the road. To his relief, it was deserted. However, he couldn't fathom what Allie was thinking, running like this in the open. What if someone saw her?

Allie skidded to a difficult stop as she met Frodo halfway, and a split second later, she was in her hobbit form as she rushed towards him and planted her face in his chest, sobbing so violently her cries could most likely be heard from miles away.

"Allie!"

Feeling totally aware now, he realized she was completely naked and quickly fumbled to get off the sweater he was wearing. However, it was difficult because she kept clinging to it with the force of desperation. After much struggling, he managed to pry her hands off it and took it off. Then, he draped it across her shoulders and covered her up.

Allie was now standing straight with her hands to her eyes as she cried harder than he'd ever heard her cry. Frodo kept asking her what was wrong, but she didn't even have enough breath to speak.

He looked back in direction of the Green Dragon, fearing that her loud sobs would start attracting hobbits over. Seizing her wrist, he pulled her off the road and into the fields. It was dark there, and he could barely make out her face, but her weeping was as loud as before. Gently, but firmly, he took her by the wrists and lowered her hands from her face.

"Allie, stop crying and tell me what is wrong," he pleaded gently.

Allie just shook her head violently as she moaned and whimpered as though her soul was being ripped to pieces. Frodo really didn't know what to do; he had never seen her break down like this.

"Speak to me," he tried again softly. "That is the only way I can help you."

Again, she shook her head violently and slowly sank down on her knees. Frodo also knelt down in front of her on the grass.

"N-no one can help m-me," she stuttered through her tears. "I did… I did… such a terrible thing!"

"What terrible thing?" Frodo encouraged.

However, Allie had resumed crying bitterly. Frodo wondered what could be so bad that she couldn't even say it out loud. He had to get through to her though.

"Did you… kill someone?" he asked quietly.

Allie froze, and then slowly raised her tear-stricken face to look at Frodo. "I…" she chocked. "I don't know. He will die, but he will then come back to life. He... he has no more future now… everything is gone… and I was the one who took it all away from him. Oh, what am I going to do? I did such a terrible thing…"

Frodo thought he partly understood what she meant.

"Did you bite someone then?"

Allie whimpered in her hands. "Yes... I did. I tried my best to hold back but… just like Councillor said, I couldn't do anything. I could just watch it happen…"

"So, you turned that person into a wolf?" Frodo asked again.

Her hands were shaking. "He is not yet a wolf, but soon he will be. I can already feel the Blood gaining him over." She looked up in despair. "Frodo, what am I going to do? There has to be some way to take it all back."

At this, she bit her thumb as she paced back and forth. "Perhaps… perhaps I can ask Councillor. He knows things. There might be a way to save him. Yes. I have to save him. I have to take it back."

Frodo tried to stop her pacing, but she ignored him. Her eyes were shimmering madly. "It cannot be Pippin! It cannot be him!"

At this, Frodo stopped trying to hinder her pacing as his hand fell limply by his side. For a moment, there was only the sound of the wind rustling through the grass and of the stomping of Allie's feet as she paced.

"Was there a reason for which you were forced to bite him?" Frodo finally asked shakily.

Allie stopped moving and slowly, her shoulders sagged in defeat. "I have told you about the core of the pack," she murmured in a flat voice. "I killed Protector because he betrayed our pack, so that left the core out of balance. I had to find a new Protector, and the Blood chose Pippin."

She sank down on her knees as tears started flowing again. "Why Pippin? Why? I did not want this to befall any of my friends. I do not want them to live the same kind of cursed life I am living right now. How could I have done this to Pippin, of all people?" She seized her hair in both hands and pulled hard. "I hate being a wolf! I hate the Blood! I hate myself! This is not the first time that I wonder whether it would have been better if I had never been brought into this world. Everywhere I go, I bring misery to the people around me..." her words ended in a sob.

Frodo knelt down and shook her, hard. His blue eyes were shining angrily. "Allie, that is simply not true. I do not want to hear you talking like this ever again! You despairing and crying like this is not going to help Pippin!"

Allie slowly looked up at him through haunted eyes.

"This is not the Allie I know!" he stated firmly. "The Allie I know would not be crying and submerging herself in self-pity when there is something she can do!"

"What can I do, Frodo?" she yelled. "I have done enough!"

"The Blood chose him and made you bite him! What is done is done!" Frodo yelled back. "But now Pippin is going to wake up in a strange place and will have no idea what has happened to him! Do you want him to feel that kind of despair?"

Allie slowly let her hands fall down onto her lap.

Frodo's expression softened. "When he wakes up, the only familiar person in that new world of his will be you. Are you going to leave him all by himself?"

Allie took a deep breath and tried to calm herself, but Frodo could see the pain and the struggle in her grey eyes.

Slowly, he stretched out his hand towards her, palm facing upwards.

"You do not need to face this alone. We can do this together."

Allie stared into his encouraging eyes and let herself be nursed by his strength and his faith in her. Frodo was right; crying was useless.

Slowly, she reached out her hand and put it in his.

Frodo smiled and pulled them both to their feet. His hand was warm as it held hers, and somehow that warmth steadily chased away her feelings of fear and guilt. At that moment, she had the impression that she could face anything as long as Frodo was by her side.

"You are right. I can do this." she stated more to herself than to anyone else. "I _must_ do this." She turned her tear-stricken face to Frodo. "Just… don't let go"

Frodo squeezed her hand harder. "Never."

* * *

Pippin's fever lasted for a few hours, and then he passed away. The entire Took family was left numb and paralyzed by grief, refusing to believe in the reality of what had just happened.

Paladin, mad with pain, set out into the woods, swearing that he would find the beast that had taken the life of his son and kill it on the spot. However, his mission was left fruitless.

Two days later, the Took family organized a funeral for their youngest child at the local cemetery in Tuckborough. Most of the Shire attended it, for they were all aware that Pippin was supposed to succeed his father as the next Thain.

Eglantine, Pippin's mother, fell gravely ill following the tragic event, and Pearl tended to her everyday. However, in spite of her growing weakness, she still insisted on attending the funeral of her son. Sitting on a chair with a blanket draped across her knees, she stared hard at the coffin containing Pippin's body, her features bitter and harsh.

It was a clear September morning, but somehow the sun didn't reach any of the hobbits wearing dark clothes aggregated inside the cemetery. Paladin looked at the crowd painfully and then bowed his head down as he wept into his hands. Everywhere, cries and laments could be heard.

"He was so young! He did not even get the chance to start living his life yet."

"I cannot believe it. My son was playing with him in the river just the other day."

"Poor Paladin and Eglantine, losing their only son in such a tragic manner. Who would have thought?"

"I heard they have not yet found the wild animal that has done this to Peregrin. If one day I come across it, I swear I will kill it with my own bare hands!"

All of Pippin's friends were there at the funeral, not only those from Tuckborough, but also those from Buckland and Hobbiton. Merry, Fatty, Folco and Berilac were inconsolable as they sobbed their eyes out by the grave.

Pippin, however, looked peaceful as he laid inside his coffin, as though he was simply asleep.

"How can you leave us already, Pippin?" Merry sobbed. "There are still so many things… so many things we have not yet done."

Berilac turned away from the sight of it all and dried his tears on his sleeve. When he lowered his arm, he caught sight of Allie standing in retreat from the crowd.

He knew she had been very close to Pippin and therefore must be devastated by the news. He started pushing his way across the crowd to get to her, but paused suddenly when he saw Frodo standing by her side. He was clenching her hand in his, and they both looked somber as they stood there and watched the whole funeral. Everybody else was either crying or lamenting, but Allie and Frodo remained silent and still, and just watched. Berilac sensed a flicker of resentment flare up, but it was soon replaced by resignation.

Soon, the funeral officially started; everyone went to pay their respects to the dead boy one last time. When it was Allie and Frodo's turn, Allie bent down low and put a rose beside Pippin's body. When she was done, she slid a small pebble inside the latch of the coffin.

Frodo looked at her and she nodded in affirmative. They both walked away without turning back.

When the long line of grievers finally ended, the hobbit who was presiding over the ceremony gave the signal to close the coffin and lower it inside the hole in the ground.

Paladin held Eglantine, Pearl, Pimpernel and Pervinca as the whole family sobbed in grief. And then, fresh dirt was thrown over the coffin to cover it, and the funeral came to an end.

In everyone's mind, Peregrin Took was now dead.

That night, when all was dark except for the half moon hanging in the sky, two figures made their way to Pippin's grave. They each had a shovel in their hand, and as soon as they arrived in front of the newly dug grave, they planted their shovels in the fresh earth and started to dig. The earth was still loose and their progress was fast. They dug and dug until, finally, their shovels resonated against the hard wood of the coffin.

Then, they waited silently in the night, hand in hand.

Clouds were now masking the crescent moon as time tickled past so painfully slow. The cemetery was eerily quiet, as though the world was holding its breath.

Allie suddenly turned towards Frodo, her eyes bright in the darkness. "He has awakened."

The sound of the coffin creaking disturbed the eerie silence of the cemetery. Then, shuffling and panting sounds started emanating from the grave.

Slowly, Allie let go of Frodo's hand and stepped forward.

Minutes later, a hand appeared at the edge of the hole in the ground, followed by another. Then, Pippin's head emerged onto the surface, with fresh dirt still caught in his hair and nails. Slowly, the boy who had died crawled out of his grave and into the cool night air.

He looked towards where Allie stood, and his usually playful green eyes now shone ominously in the night.

"Protector," Allie murmured shakily.

Pippin blinked upon recognizing his two friends standing there on that land interspersed with gravestones.

"Allie? Frodo?" he whispered, frightened. "What- what am I doing here? I woke up and… I was in some sort of box. Luckily it was not locked so I could push it open. But now… this… this is the cemetery, isn't it?"

As he spoke, his irises slowly returned to normal, no longer shining.

Allie walked towards him and extended her hand. Pippin seized it immediately and let her pull him to his feet. He looked around, shivering.

"What is going on? The last thing I remember was…" he frowned, and looked at Allie.

"Pippin, you said you would follow me wherever I will go. Did you really mean that?"

Pippin was silent for a while, and then slowly nodded his head. "Are we… going somewhere?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes, Pippin. We are."

She turned her head and a bitter expression crossed her face for an instant before she recomposed herself. Setting a steady gaze upon Pippin's baffled face, she took a deep breath.

"Pippin, the life you once knew does not exist anymore."

Pippin's eyes filled with incomprehension and shock when Allie started stripping out of her clothes in front of him, in a _graveyard_. He was about to ask her what she was doing, when the words died in his throat. In place of Allie, there was now a big wolf standing in her stead, looking at him through Allie's eyes.

And suddenly, the events from before he woke up in the cemetery came back to mind. Gasping, he grabbed his shoulder where the wolf had bitten him, but any trace of pain there had long subsided by now.

Allie was still staring at him steadily; Pippin's panic-stricken eyes darted towards Frodo standing a few feet back, observing the whole scene. Pippin shouted out his name, but Frodo did not answer.

_Pippin._

Startled, Pippin looked around, but no one had spoken. His own name resonated inside of him once more, and this time his stunned gaze slowly travelled to the face of the wolf.

_I'm Allie. _

"Allie… how?! I don't understand."

_I will now tell you everything, if you are willing to listen._

Pippin swallowed hard, but his eyes were clear. Slowly, he nodded.

Allie sat on her hind legs and started projecting images towards Pippin, starting from the day she got bitten by the wolf with the flame-colored fur. She showed Pippin the night she died in Dom the herbalist's place after running a fever, much like Pippin himself had experienced; she showed him her transformation by the side of the lake, and her encounter with Informant. She showed him the days she spent trying to master her transformation, and finally her death match with Queen in Bree's cemetery. She showed him Protector's betrayal and how she killed him as per the rules of the pack. She let him listen to Councillor's words as he told her she had to find a new Protector, chosen by the Blood. And that evening in Pippin's room, her Blood had reacted to him and had forced her to bite him. Lastly, she showed him his funeral and the faces of his family as they cried by his grave.

After the string of images stopped flashing inside Pippin's mind, he slowly crumbled on his knees with tears shining in his eyes. His whole family thought he was dead now. Did that mean he could never go back home anymore? His family would probably think he was ghost or a monster if he appeared alive in front of them again.

Slowly, he looked into the golden wolf's piercing eyes, eyes that shone with guilt and yet empathy. She understood how he felt; she had been through the same thing. His family's grieving faces were at the back of his mind, but that wolf whose fur shone under the starlight was in front of him, and he was mesmerized by her.

He stood up steadily and walked towards her. Taking the big wolf's head in between his hands, he said: "Allie, teach me how to be a wolf. Teach me how to be your Protector."

_Pippin, you will never be able to return home then. You will have to forsake and forget the life you once led as a hobbit._

Pippin closed his eyes for a second at that. "I have not lost everything. There is still you, isn't there? What I have lost is my past, but you can become my future. I did say I was willing to follow you no matter what."

Allie's eyes shone with emotion.

His face split into a smile. "This is pretty good actually! I was beginning to think that life was getting boring. Being a wolf is definitely the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me!"

_Thank you, Pippin. But you don't need to try so hard to smile right now. It's all right if you cannot smile for a while. _

Pippin's smile faded a little, but not completely. "I'm not faking it, Allie."

He stepped back. "Now show me how I can transform!"

His determination made her feel better. And thus, Allie told him the words Informant had spoken to her when he was teaching her how to become a wolf. As the half moon travelled across the sky and the stars started disappearing at the approach of dawn, Pippin tried hard to get a sense of the Blood now flowing inside his veins.

When the rise of the sun was imminent, tinting the horizon red, he finally tore into space and fell forward on hands that were not hands anymore.

The sun rose slowly in the sky, its light gradually creeping along the gravestones, illuminating the deep hole in the ground where Pippin's empty coffin now laid. The band of sunlight travelled along the cemetery until it enveloped Allie warmly. And then, the sun reached the second wolf, revealing the light auburn fur of his back and the white fur of his legs.

The auburn wolf looked around with sparkling green eyes and gambolled around the cemetery, jumping over gravestones with his tongue hanging out excitedly. He sauntered back to Allie, lurching and feinting in front of her playfully. Allie simply watched over him indulgently.

"I did it, Allie!" Pippin was exclaiming. "I did it! I'm really a wolf now!"

"Yes, Pippin. Please do calm down," she admonished softly. "Conserve your energy for when you get to meet the pack."

Pippin's green eyes glinted. "I will get to meet other wolves? That is exciting! I cannot wait to see Informant! And Councillor! And Hunter! And since I'm Protector, I have my own unit, right? Wolves who obey me?"

Allie resisted the urge to sigh. "Yes, Pippin."

She could not help wondering what the Blood was thinking when it had chosen someone as innocent as Pippin. Would be truly be all right?

She quickly gauged the location of her pack via the Blood and saw that, as Hunter had previously reported, most of them were now heading towards the South Downs. If she hurried, she could catch up to them with Pippin after half a day. Informant was still somewhere in the North Downs, so she could meet up with him first. A few wolves contacted her, saying that they had sensed the awakening of Protector.

"Congratulations," they said.

"You will get to meet him soon," she promised.

She eyed the auburn wolf frolicking around the gravestones; it didn't look like Pippin was hearing this conversation, although it was public. He still needed to learn to communicate via the Blood. However, she was certain that his progress would be faster than her own. From his awakening to his transformation, it had only taken him two days, whereas it had taken her weeks.

"It is because he is lower in hierarchy," Councillor explained after Allie asked him for the reason why. "Queens normally take five sunsets to awaken, although you awoke after only two. Then, they have to practice their transformation a couple of times before getting it right. It is because they are the masters of the Blood. The awakening of the core of the pack will take less time in comparison, and that of simple recruits will be instantaneous."

"From now on, when I bite any male, he will immediately become a wolf?" Allie asked.

"If you will it."

She nodded in understanding.

"Come on, Pippin. It is time to go."

Pippin came rushing to his side, vibrant with energy. "Let's go meet the other wolves!" he proclaimed eagerly.

He swiftly ran out of the cemetery and towards the woods, where Frodo was leaning against a lone tree. Pippin paused for a second as he made eye contact with the young hobbit, his friend. Frodo gave him a reassuring smile, and the wolf's green eyes sparkled as he sauntered away.

Allie walked in Frodo's direction more slowly, gently paddling on the fresh earth. She paused in front of him and swung her tail a little.

Frodo smiled. "You did well, Allie."

He stretched his hand and she came to rub her head against it. Frodo ran his fingers through the silky fur of her head and neck, and then stepped back. Allie's grey eyes took in his face with gratitude, and then she was gone, running after Pippin in a flash of gold.

"See you later," Frodo murmured.

* * *

A few days later, all the friends and relatives finally left Tuckborough to go back to their usual lives. Only Paladin, Eglantine and Pippin's sisters remained behind in the big empty Smial, grieving over the loss of their youngest.

Frodo went back to Hobbiton alone, for Allie and Pippin had not come back after that day in the cemetery.

As he sat near the water mill and contemplated the big wheel turning, he sipped his juice leisurely and wondered whether Pippin had seen the pack yet and whether he would get used to being a wolf. For a second, he wondered how he would have dealt with it if Allie had bitten him instead, making him her Protector.

It was a scary thought, but he did not think it would have been the end of his world. It wasn't as though his life as a hobbit was terribly exciting. He had already lost his parents, and more often than not, he felt as though he did not belong. Even if he had some friends here, he felt he had the strongest bond to Allie. However, fate apparently had decided otherwise for him.

"Frodo, you are back!"

It was Rosie; she came running to him in her yellow dress, a bouquet of lilacs in her hand.

"Hello, Rosie."

Rosie knelt down beside him with wide eyes. "I heard about your friend. I am sorry for your loss," she announced solemnly.

Frodo simply nodded.

"Is Allie not with you? She must be sad."

"She will be back later."

Rosie nodded and twirled the bouquet in her hands.

"Those are pretty flowers," Frodo noted. "Where did you get them?"

At this, Rosie dropped her gaze shyly. "Oh, these. I met Sam earlier, and he had some extra flowers from his gardening, so he made a bouquet with them and gave them to me."

Frodo didn't notice her blush and simply nodded in understanding.

Rosie was suddenly reminded of something. "Oh, your birthday was two days ago, Frodo."

Frodo had completely forgotten because of Pippin's funeral.

"What shall we do? Maybe we can throw a small party when Allie comes back," Rosie suggested thoughtfully.

"I think we will just have dinner with Bilbo, or do something small. It is not that important."

"Well, happy belated birthday, then."

He smiled a little. "Thank you."

They sat a moment in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Rosie had actually noticed that Frodo and Allie were acting a little strange as of late. They spent more time together than usual (which was a good thing in her book), but sometimes when she joined them, they would stop whatever they were talking about and would cast her a glance she couldn't decipher.

It looked like they had some kind of secret.

"Have you told Allie that you like her yet?" she asked out of nowhere.

Frodo spat out the sip of juice he had the misfortune of taking in at that moment. Wiping at his mouth furiously, he turned a disbelieving gaze towards her. "What?"

Rosie eyed the quick rush of red coloring his cheeks and couldn't help laughing.

"It is not funny, Rosie! You must stop saying ridiculous things!"

She tapped his shoulder. "Oh, come _on,_ Frodo. For how much longer are you going to be in denial?"

"I am not…!" he almost choked. "There is nothing of the sort going on!"

A pair of impatient hazel eyes settled on him. "Then why are you getting so worked up?"

"Because I do not know where you are getting all these ideas from." He sighed. "Look, Allie is family. I have known her since I was little, and she is like a sister to me."

Rosie eyed him seriously. "Do you truly believe in what you have just said? I am pretty good at reading other folk, Frodo. I know what is in your heart, and I think you do too. Why are you denying this so badly?"

Frodo played with the glass in his hands, feeling his heart thundering in his chest.

"Like I said..." he started forcefully. However, upon meeting Rosie's gaze, whatever he had wanted to say next sizzled out of his throat.

Rosie put down her bouquet of flowers. "I know it is hard to be honest with yourself about these things. It is not easy, I know it," she finished, thinking a bit about Sam.

Frodo let out the breath he had been holding. "There is simply no way I can tell her," he finally admitted without looking at her. "She thinks of me as family. There's nothing more."

"How can you be so sure?" Rosie countered. "How do you know for sure that she doesn't feel the same way?"

Frodo stared at her. "Is it not obvious? I saw the way she behaved around Reginard. That is how she is when she likes somebody. The way she acts around me is completely different."

She sighed. "Frodo, you are being short-sighted. She is herself when she is with you, while she was merely putting on a persona when she was with Reg. She is comfortable with you and that is why she is not trying hard to be someone she's not. But that doesn't mean that she doesn't like you."

Frodo slowly shook his head. "I don't know."

Rosie let out a small sigh. "What do you have to lose by telling her that you like her?"

"Everything," Frodo replied immediately. "Even though she does not like me that way, we are at a good place right now."

_She even said you are her most important person_ – his mind supplied helpfully.

"And I want to keep things the way they are. I don't want to create any awkwardness," he looked at Rosie shyly. "Please keep today's conversation a secret."

Rosie fumbled with her strawberry curls as she shook her head at him. "I will keep it a secret, but I must say that I really am losing patience watching you two."

Then, she pushed herself off the grass and walked away after bidding him farewell.

Frodo wanted to take another sip of juice, but his glass was now empty. There were also two stains on his shirt from the juice that he had spat out by accident after Rosie's words. He tried wiping them off, but they stayed.

He could feel his cheeks still burning as he slowly walked back to Bag End. Just how had Rosie found out? He thought he had had those feelings buried deep enough.

Upon arriving in front of his smial, he noticed that the door was half open. Loud sounds of conversation were drifting out from the inside, and a cart with a single horse was stationed at the side of the road. Frowning, Frodo glided inside quietly and closed the door behind him.

The sounds of conversation came from the kitchen; one voice belonged to his uncle, but the other one was unknown to him. It was deep and yet powerful, and when the person the voice belonged to laughed, his laughter seemed to spread to every corner of the smial as even the furniture resonated with it.

Frodo moved along the hallway till he reached the kitchen. Peering inside, he almost fell back on his behind when he spotted a giant sitting at their table. He had long grey hair and a long grey beard, and was wearing long grey robes. He occupied half of the space in the kitchen, and even when seated, his head almost touched the ceiling. He was even bigger than some of the Big People he had seen in Bree. Bilbo was talking animatedly to him while boiling water to make tea.

Frodo was about to turn around and make his escape when he spotted Allie sitting on the other side of the giant, trying to make herself as small as possible. He didn't know she was back from visiting the pack. She looked very uncomfortable and kept throwing apprehensive glances towards the giant. Suddenly, she saw him standing there at the entrance of the kitchen, and she discreetly beckoned at him.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to step into the kitchen bravely.

"Oh, Frodo! There you are!" Bilbo exclaimed upon seeing him.

The giant interrupted what he was saying and turned two piercing blue eyes in his direction. Frodo felt his gaze all the way down to the marrow of his bones. It stopped his breath in his lungs and made him feel exposed, as though all the secrets he'd ever had were now clearly written on his skin.

Allie pushed back her chair and ran towards him. She hid herself behind him and then peered over darkly at the giant from above his shoulder.

Bilbo laughed upon seeing the frightened faces of the two kids. "I have already introduced my guest toAllie, but Frodo, this is Gandalf the Grey, the Wizard from my stories."

At this, Frodo's eyes widened. The giant – Gandalf – smiled warmly, leaned down and stuck out his huge hand. Frodo slowly lifted his own and watched in horror as Gandalf's hand enveloped his completely when he shook it.

"Nice to meet you, Frodo," Gandalf said in his rich voice.

"Yes… likewise," Frodo managed to get out, sighing in relief upon seeing his hand still intact when Gandalf released him.

The Wizard's eyes then travelled to Allie, and she quickly hid behind Frodo again. At this, Gandalf laughed heartily. "I think I might have scared the little girl."

Bilbo chuckled. "She is very shy with strangers. Do not worry, after she gets used to you, you will not be able to get rid of her."

Frodo knew that Allie wasn't being shy; she was actually truly scared of Gandalf, for he could feel her trembling as she clenched his arm.

"Ah, the tea is ready," Bilbo brought over some cups and poured the green liquid into each of them. "Sit down, kids. Gandalf is actually a much better story-teller than I am, and he also has way more stories to tell as well."

Frodo shuffled to the table with Allie in his wake. They both sat down in front Gandalf, whose eyes were sparkling in amusement as he looked down upon their faces.

As they carefully sipped their tea, Gandalf told them stories of the places he had been to in Middle Earth. He told them of Rivendell, the city of the Immortal Elves; of the mines of Moria where the Dwarves dwelt and excavated gold and mithril, which was a material so resistant it could stand against a dragon's fire. And he told them of the dwellings of the Men in the South. Some had their houses and stables built on the big planes of Rohan; they were the best horse masters and horse riders of Middle Earth. Their neighbours to the South lived in Gondor, where was situated the white towers of Minas Tirith, the city of Kings.

For the first time ever, Frodo and Allie became conscious that the world they lived in extended way beyond the Shire and Bree. There was a whole other universe out there, with more different kinds of people and creatures than they could have ever imagined. As they became aware of how big the world was, they also realized how small and insignificant they actually were. It was enough to make their heads spin.

Gandalf saw the growing wonder in their eyes and smiled. "But enough of my stories. I wager you two have stories of your own that are just as interesting."

He put emphasis on the words by looking at Allie in particular. Immediately, she tensed and seized Frodo's sleeve. Frodo also was on his guard, shooting Gandalf a nervous glance.

"They are in no way as wonderful as your stories, Gandalf," Frodo finally replied in a small voice. "We are just living our lives normally in the Shire, where nothing ever happens."

Bilbo laughed. "That much is true. If you want an adventure, staying in the Shire does not help. I know this from experience. If not for your visit, Gandalf, all those years ago, I would probably still be wandering around aimlessly wandering what to do with my life."

"Now, now," Gandalf admonished. "Your services were precious to us back in the day."

Bilbo and Gandalf started talking about the old times, and Frodo and Allie relaxed, glad for the diversion.

Allie tugged on his sleeve discreetly; Frodo looked at her in the eye and knew that she wanted to leave. They both shot a glance in direction of the adults talking animatedly, before quietly slipping off their chairs. Like shadows, they darted out of the kitchen. Once in the hallway, Allie looked over her shoulder one last time to make sure they had escaped unnoticed, but her heart stopped when saw Gandalf's blue eye on her. She quickly dropped her gaze and ran away.

Once outside the smial, Frodo and Allie could finally breathe at ease as they wandered about the roads presently carpeted with fallen leaves. It was October already, and the autumn wind was blowing yellow leaves off the trees, making them twirl as they landed on the ground.

"It's my first time seeing a Wizard," Frodo's voice was full of wonder. "He has such an incredible presence."

Allie's face remained stoic. "He kept looking at me. I think he knows…"

"There is no way that he knows," Frodo tried reassuring her. "How could he? He has just arrived."

"But he is a Wizard," Allie's voice was full of disquiet. "Perhaps he knows things other people don't. In any case, I think it is best if I don't run into him too often. He said he will be staying until Yule. I just have to be inconspicuous until then."

Frodo stretched his arms behind his head. "Don't worry, Allie. I will help you protect your secret."

At this, she flashed him a bright smile that stole his breath away a little. "All right, I'm counting on you then."

Frodo could only nod.

After a moment of walking in silence, he said: "All those stories about Elves and Dwarves and Men… I cannot believe such folk actually exist out there. I mean, Bilbo did talk about them in his stories, but somehow, they still seemed to be fictional. But now they are starting to become more and more real. Do you reckon we will get to see them one day?"

Allie was skipping on the stones by the side of the road. "I hope so! In that world where those mystical creatures live, maybe the existence of wolves is common knowledge. Maybe there are even other wolves out there living among Elves and Men, where they don't need to hide."

At these words, Frodo's heart was suddenly filled with unease. Softly, he asked: "Allie, are you thinking of leaving the Shire then?"

Two astonished grey eyes searched his face. "Of course not!", she exclaimed, and then more quietly: "Perhaps such a world exists out there, but it is not my world. I want to be here."

_With you_, she thought, but didn't say.

The nervous throbbing in Frodo's chest vanished. "It is a wise choice. The Shire is a good place to live. I was born here and I have spent all my life here as well. This is home for us." A thought suddenly struck him. "Say, Allie, speaking of wolves, how is Pippin doing?"

"I introduced him to the rest of the pack. You should have seen him, he was so excited to see everyone! He said he wanted to stay with them for a little longer to get to know them better, so I came back first." She frowned. "Knowing him, I bet he just wants to experience ordering other wolves around."

Frodo chuckled. "Pippin doesn't change, even as a wolf."

She turned to look at him and her gaze turned soft. "Thank you for being there for me, Frodo. It was a difficult time, but I'm just glad it ended like this. You gave me the courage to face Pippin."

Frodo's cheeks turned pink as he looked down at the ground. "Don't mention it."

They continued their stroll, sometimes gazing up at the yellow foliage of the trees and the changing colors of the fall. A leaf drifted down from above and Frodo caught it in his fingers. He planted it in Allie's blonde curls, laughing upon seeing her frown. Allie picked up a leaf off the ground and inserted it in his dark curls. She puffed upon seeing it sticking out of his head, much like a wolf's ear, actually.

Frodo picked up another leaf and came towards her, but she evaded him laughingly and ran away.

"Stop right there!" Frodo called out as he chased after her.

Allie bent down, picked up a handful of leaves, and threw them back in his direction. Frodo raised his arm to shield his face, and then picked up some leaves of his own that he threw back at her. However, a gust of wind blew them away, much to his consternation. Allie laughed and stuck out his tongue at him.

"Nature is not your ally," she mocked as she continued to run away.

"I don't need allies," he retorted as he sprinted after her.

She looked back to survey his progression, but since she wasn't looking where she was going, she tripped on a pebble and staggered on her feet. Frodo saw this as his chance. He quickly picked up a leaf and then dashed madly towards her, finally catching up to her. He seized her wrist and then tried sticking the leaf in her hair, but she kept moving her head this way and that, evading him.

"Stay still!" he intimated as he tried immobilizing her by holding onto her waist.

Allie was laughing and struggling at the same time. He was about to succeed in planting it in her hair when she blocked his wrist with her hand.

They struggled like this for a while, with Frodo gradually overpowering her. He flashed her a quite wicked smile as she scrunched up her nose with the effort. Then, Frodo made a small step back to gain some more leverage. However, he didn't see that they were at the top of a slope. His foot met the ground way lower than he expected, and that made him lose his balance.

"Oh!" was all he had time to shout before he was tumbling down the hill, dragging Allie with him.

They rolled on the ground and on top of each other until they finally came to a rest at the base of the hill. Frodo landed on his back and Allie landed on top of him, both panting madly.

When the world finally stopped turning in front of Allie's eyes, she spit out a leaf that had gotten into her mouth. "Oh buggers, Frodo!" she let out. "You are so clumsy sometimes."

She placed her hands on both sides of his head and tried to lift herself up, grimacing when her elbow cracked. "Ow, my elbow hurts." She turned towards Frodo. "I hope it's not br..."

Her voice died when she found her face an inch from his. From their chests pressed together, she became aware of his heart thumping madly in his ribcage. Suddenly, her own heart started echoing the same wild beat in her own chest.

Her arms started trembling as she hovered on top of him.

Frodo was looking at her, still panting softly, and his eyes seemed so deep, exerting a mysterious pull over her, making her unable to look away.

She couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't even blink. She felt as though she was drowning, sinking into something warm.

She wanted to push herself away, but none of her limbs obeyed her.

And Frodo was still looking at her in that stunning way.

They stayed in that position for an eternity, it seemed, just looking at each other as though caught in a dream.

"Frodo? Allie?"

And the dream was dispelled.

Allie saw panic creep onto Frodo's features at the unexpected voice. She jerked sideways so fast that she rolled a couple of times on the grass before coming to a stop. Then, she sprung up on her feet, dusting off leaves from her clothes hurriedly. Frodo was doing the same beside her. Their cheeks were burning bright red, and they refused to look at each other.

A few feet away from them, Marigold was watching them with her mouth slightly open.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her hazel eyes brimming a little.

"Oh, nothing much!" Allie yelped. "We just fell."

Frodo nodded furiously and pointed upwards. "Yes, from up the hill."

"You never watch where you put your foot," Allie murmured, not looking at him, her hands still busying themselves on her clothes although every single leaf had already fallen off.

"I'm… sorry," Frodo stammered, not looking at her either.

Allie's breathing was still unstable when she pointed randomly to her left and said: "I-I need to go this way. I remembered something... quite urgent."

Frodo's eyes darted to her. "Yes. I have to go too."

Under Marigold's flabbergasted gaze, they bolted in opposite directions at the same time and ran away as though a horde of goblins were at their tail.

Frodo dashed madly across the fields until he literally dropped on the ground with exhaustion. His lungs were burning and his muscles ached, and yet he couldn't get Allie's face out of his mind. He could still feel her blonde curls tickling the skin of his cheeks as they had cascaded down from around her face.

As she had gazed down upon him with those clear grey eyes of hers, he had not been able to hide his feelings at all. He wondered if she had managed to see them clearly etched there on his face. He felt fear and yet excitement at that perspective.

How should he face her now?

* * *

:)

**Riddlemethis:** Yes haha, it's understandable to think it could have been Berilac, since there was this whole thing about him liking her. But Pippin was the person I had in mind all along. Awww thanks. I love writing about Allie and Frodo's little interactions. Young love is always so innocent, it's true. It's all the good stuff before the grown-up drama of teenagers lol. I'm glad they could make you smile. That's what I wanted! There will be more of those moments, for sure. And Gandalf finally appeared in this chapter too :D

**1945:** Yes, I haven't been focusing too much on Pippin lately with everything else going on, but he's always been present throughout the story. I left some hints in his previous interactions with Allie... such as him always being on her side and stuff like that. It's small things, but back then I already wanted to start building up their relationship for this outcome. Rosie is the one Sam ends up with in the books. It's Rosie Cotton. And Marigold is Sam's youngest sister. She's actually a real Tolkien character, I didn't make her up :D I hope that helped clear things up!

Thank you all for reading, guys! :)


	28. Your Half of the Moon

**Your Half of the Moon**

"So?" Informant inquired. "What did you want to talk about?"

The golden wolf shook her head a little, as though she had been deep in thought. "There is a Wizard in town," she finally announced, looking at Informant in the eye.

"I know of who you speak of," Councillor declared softly. "But I do not think you need to be wary of him. He has come to this area many times, but he never intrudes on our business."

Allie was not convinced. "He has been looking at me in a peculiar way. He might know my secret."

Informant sauntered onto a boulder of the dunes. "What if he does? He probably has more important things to tend to than to worry about the Queen of a pack of wolves."

"He is friends with the hobbit I am living with. If he tells Bilbo about my present self, I might not be able to stay with them anymore."

There was a long pause.

"Queen…" Councillor finally started.

One grey eye glared at him.

"Allie," he corrected himself. "I think it is about time you start distancing yourself from those half-humans. Nothing good will come from getting too attached. You are our Queen now, you belong with us, and yet we barely see you because you would rather spend your days living a life that is no longer yours."

"It is up to me to decide where I belong," she retorted. "Whether I'm a hobbit or a wolf, I am still just Allie. And I will live my life the way I see it fit."

"You are too naïve," Informant growled, no longer amused. "You are our Queen. You have accepted that responsibility. Sooner or later, you will have to come with us. Every single wolf in this pack has already forsaken their time from before they were wolves. Our past is forever frozen and unattainable. Right now, there is only the pack, there is only hunting and fighting and being a wolf. You have to accept that reality, give up on your hobbit form and become what you are meant to be."

"I cannot do that!" Allie growled back. "I can live as both a hobbit and a wolf. I shall prove it to you. It is working well so far, isn't it?"

Informant towered over her menacingly. "Do not tell me you have already grown this attached to those half-humans?"

Allie flared her nostrils. "Those half-humans, as you call them, are more precious to me than this pack. I know this is not what you want to hear, but this is my truth."

To her surprise, Informant simply shook his large head. "This secret of yours," he started, "you will not be able to keep it forever."

Allie's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Have you never wondered why _we_ never transform back to our old selves?"

At this, Allie looked up in dismay.

"It is because" Informant continued, his yellow eyes cold, "after a certain time, you cannot go back to your old self any longer. Being a wolf is all you will have left. The sooner you realize this, the better it will be for you and for those half-humans you hold dear."

Allie felt her limbs trembling. "I don't understand. No one… no one has told me about this before! Are you saying I will no longer be able to transform back? That is impossible! Tell me that it is not true!"

Her pleading eyes met the cold gaze of Informant, and she felt the ground coming undone underneath her. "No!" she screamed, "I don't want this! Any of this!"

She suddenly turned tails and started running away from the wolves as fast as she could. Pippin chose that moment to emerge from the bushes with a dead rabbit in his fangs. He let it drop on the ground upon seeing Allie sprint away.

"What happened?"

"The Queen is a fool!" Informant snarled and trudged away over the crest of the hill.

"Protector, please go talk to her," Councillor suggested softly. "You already know that it is impossible for the both of you to keep your hobbit forms forever."

Pippin's green eyes travelled to where Allie had disappeared behind the sandy hills, and soon he launched after her, lithe and swift. He caught up with her as she was wandering near the border of the Old Forest.

"Allie!" Pippin called out.

Allie swivelled an ear back upon hearing his approach. She didn't turn back but did slow down her pace.

Pippin caught up with her, and sensed her distress. "Allie," he started softly. "It is true. Councillor told me about it yesterday as well. It is a horrible thing, but what can we do?"

He tried rubbing her head, but she pulled away. "There has to be a solution somewhere! Perhaps if I refrain from transforming into this form in the future, I can continue being a hobbit indefinitely. I mean…," her voice weakened, "I cannot accept this, no matter what! If I ever cease to be a hobbit, then I really will be in a different world altogether, from him…"

"Who are you talking about?" Pippin asked softly.

Allie didn't answer, but simply picked up the pace and started running again. Pippin didn't give up and ran alongside her. Seeing that she had no intentions of stopping, he cut in front of her and forced them both to an abrupt halt.

"Allie," his green eyes were serious for once, "I believe there must be a solution to this somewhere. If you really set your mind on finding it, I'm sure that you will. There has to be a middle-ground!"

She hung her head down low, defeated. "I don't know, Pippin. I don't know."

Pippin nudged her head with his muzzle until she looked at him in the eye. "For some reason, I don't feel the same despair as you do at the thought of becoming a wolf forever. Maybe it's because everyone I know already thinks of me as dead. I don't have a family anymore, and I don't have friends. I only have you, and the other wolves. You are my new life now."

He saw the look in her eyes and pursued: "Don't feel guilty. It wasn't your doing. But the result is still the same. The wolves are my only world now, that's a fact. I understand that the situation is different for you. You still have all your friends, and you have a smial to return to. But Allie, the wolves need you as well. You are our leader, and we need you."

"I know that. I will not forsake you, even if I had a choice in the matter. I just wish there wasn't so much that I will have to lose."

She resumed walking with her tail in between her legs, and Pippin could only watch her go sadly.

* * *

Winter had come and Yule was close. Even though it was already December, the first snow fall lagged to come this year. In spite of that, the weather was cold and a chilly wind from the North kept blowing over the land.

Frodo stuck his hands inside the pockets of his coat and hid his face behind the giant scarf that Bilbo had wrapped around his neck that morning. He shivered when the merciless wind still managed to thread its way through his layers of clothing to reach his skin.

He sprinted on the last few meters separating him from Bag End and then quickly slid inside, sighing when he closed the door behind him. He walked towards the living room and plopped down on the carpet in front of the hearth, where a fire was already crackling merrily. He extended his hands in front of the fire and sighed contentedly.

A moment later, the front door opened again and Bilbo and Allie's voices drifted to his ears. Leaning back a little, he watched as they passed by the living room and into the kitchen, each carrying a basket of vegetables they had gotten from the market.

"I was lucky to run into you today," Bilbo was saying. "I was worried I wouldn't be able to carry everything back by myself. Thank you."

"Not at all, Uncle Bilbo," Allie's voice replied.

Frodo smiled. Lately, Allie had started saying "Uncle Bilbo" as well. She must have grown quite fond of his uncle, just as he himself did. A minute later, Allie came to join Frodo in the living room. Plopping down beside him, she also extended her hands towards the hearth.

Frodo eyed her profile, watching as the light of the fire danced on her face and in her hair, making her eyes sparkle. He thought she would act differently after that incident in which they had tumbled down the hill, but to his surprise, and perhaps disappointment, the next day she had acted like nothing had happened. She continued talking to him normally, and any awkwardness he had left from the incident soon faded completely when she had made it easy for him to forget.

For a second, just a second, as she had lied on top of him that day, he thought she might like him as well, but now he was back to doubting it. Perhaps being so close to each other didn't have the same effect on her as it did on him.

However, something was different about her, he was sure of it. He couldn't put his finger on it, but even though she still talked, smiled and acted like she usually did, something seemed off. Maybe it was that distant look she had in her eyes sometimes; maybe it was the peculiar way in which she looked at him sometimes when she thought he wasn't aware of it.

Allie sensed him looking at her and turned to gaze back. A piece of firewood settled in the hearth, sending some orange sparkles into the air. She smiled at him and Frodo smiled back, hoping the light of the fire could hide his emerging blush.

Bilbo soon came to join them after he was done in the kitchen; he made small sounds with his mouth as he glided towards the kids with three cups of hot chocolate sitting precariously on a wooden tray.

Frodo and Allie accepted their drinks gratefully, cupping their hands around the sides of the cup to warm up their palms. Bilbo sat down beside them and sighed as he looked into the fire.

"It's getting quite cold out there, isn't it?" His voice was merry.

Frodo shivered again. "Yes."

Bilbo looked at them both fondly. "It's time I get you both new coats for the upcoming winter. What color do you want, Allie?"

Allie pondered for a second. "Maybe white!"

"You will dirty it in one day," Frodo couldn't help saying.

"No, I will not."

"Now, now, kids. Don't start again," Bilbo warned sternly, but his brown eyes betrayed his amusement.

However, Frodo was now eyeing Allie intensely, the beginning of a frown starting to appear on his face. These days, even when she argued with him, it seemed unconvincing, as though her mind was miles away from here.

That night, after dinner, Frodo followed Allie when she went out for a walk. Wrapped up warmly in their respective coats, they wandered on the road leading into the woods. It was a night of full moon, and Allie kept rising her head to look up at it every now and then, as though the moon was exerting a magnetic pull on her.

A gust of wind blew past them and Frodo crossed his arms in front of his chest, feeling his teeth chatter. However, the hobbit lass walking by his side seemed unfazed by it.

"Are you not cold?" he managed to ask.

Allie turned to look at him. "You should go back home," she said softly. "I'm just going to walk around in the woods for a while and then I will go back as well."

Frodo shook his head. "No, I will walk with you."

She smiled a little and resumed her walk. Frodo looked up at the moon as well and marvelled at its beauty. It was so bright and yet so cold at the same time. Bilbo had told him it could only shine because it reflected the light of the sun; all by itself, the moon would only be a dark piece of rock.

"You have told me before that the full moon is the same wherever we are in the world, do you remember?"

Frodo snatched his eyes away from that white pale disk in the night sky. "Yes," he answered.

"Is that really true?"

He shrugged. "It is what I have heard."

They were now in the woods, and the moon was mostly hidden behind the dark leaves. In the semi-darkness, Allie turned to look at him with eyes that shone a little.

"I hope so," she simply said.

"Why do you ask that?"

"Because if the full moon is the same no matter where we are, then two people can be connected by looking at it at the same time."

Her glistening eyes were bearing into him softly, and he felt his breath hitch a little. "Allie, why are you saying all this? Is something wrong?"

She blinked. "No, nothing."

He seized her arm in the dark. "Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything."

"Yes, I know. But really, there is nothing wrong." She smiled and shoved him on the shoulder gently. "Stop being such a worrywart."

Frodo shuffled on his feet. "It's just that I feel like you have not been yourself lately."

Allie didn't answer; she simply held his hand and tugged at him gently, urging him to follow her. He was a little speechless at this, but he started walking when she did.

They were going deeper and deeper into the woods, and everything was dark under the thick foliage of the trees; but somehow Frodo wasn't scared. Even though he couldn't see much, he knew that she could, and he trusted her to guide him.

"Have you ever walked in the woods at night?" Her voice sounded mysterious as it drifted to him from the darkness.

"No. It's too dark," he murmured.

The woods were quiet at night in the winter, and therefore the sound of their footsteps shuffling on the hard grass sounded particularly loud.

"Not everywhere," she replied.

They kept walking, and her hand was warm in his. He didn't know where she intended to go, but he didn't care. He could follow her till the end of the world.

Finally, they arrived to a clearing in the woods. There were no tall trees nearby and the open sky was visible. As a result, the entire clearing was bathed in moonlight, looking like an island of white light in the middle of all the darkness. Allie let go of his hand and they both walked into the middle of the clearing, feeling as though they had stepped into another world altogether.

"This is a wonderful sight!" Frodo whispered in awe, looking around at the vegetation shining with a silver lining as the moon, white and huge, hung directly over their heads.

"There is always a light somewhere," her voice pulled him out of his reverie, and he looked at her, marvelling at how her features looked air brushed under the moon.

She smiled. "This will be our secret. You can't show it to anyone else."

Frodo nodded solemnly.

They stayed there for a little while more, but the wind was getting too cold and Frodo had started shivering again. Allie took Frodo's hand once more and they wandered back into the dark woods, leaving the moonlit clearing behind.

They haven't been walking for five minutes when suddenly Frodo spotted a haunting blue light coming from somewhere deep in the forest, accompanied by the sound of soft singing. Allie had noticed as well, and they both paused, heart pounding and looking in direction of the light. Straining his eyes, Frodo thought he made out the shape of people walking past among the dark trees.

"Let's go see!" Allie murmured quietly and pulled him along.

They ran silently in the woods, jumping over tree roots and rocks. Finally, they crouched behind an earth hillock and peered on the other side. What they saw made time stop.

People were walking past slowly; they were tall and beautiful unlike any living person they had seen before. The travellers were wearing light robes that seemed to float behind them as though lifted by an invisible wind. In spite of the cold, their pale arms were bare. Their features were striking and fair, as though they had just wandered out of a painting. Their golden hair flew behind them, shining a little in that blue light that surrounded them. Some of them were leading a white horse, but most of them were walking by themselves.

There was an air of timelessness about them, as though their beauty was eternal. However, there was also a striking sadness in their features as they walked towards their destination. Frodo and Allie watched the spectacle for a long time without blinking, until finally the last one of them passed, and the forest was dark once more. Even though the two hobbits had ever seen Elves before, they knew without a doubt in their heart that that was what those beautiful people were.

"I wonder where they are going," Frodo finally murmured after finding his voice.

"I don't know. But wherever they are going, I don't think they are coming back."

Her voice was tinged with sadness.

Only years later did Frodo come to realize that the expression he kept seeing on Allie's face that winter was similar to the one the Elves wore as they passed into West.

* * *

A few days before Yule's night, Merry and Berilac came to Hobbiton all the way from Buck Hill. Frodo and Allie were happy to see them, and they celebrated by going to the Green Dragon. Merry and Berilac seemed to be the same on the surface, telling jokes and bickering with each other over small things, but deep down they were different, more mature. Pippin's death had changed them, all of them.

"I heard there is a Wizard in town!" Merry exclaimed quite excitedly. "Where is he staying at?"

"The inn at the border of Hobbiton," Frodo answered.

Merry immediately started making plans to go lurk around the inn to perhaps get a glimpse of him. Berilac warned him to stay still lest he wanted to be turned into something unnatural. They chatted some more as they ate, and when they were done, they stood up to leave, squeezing in between the other tables of the crowded place. A lot of adults were conversing and drinking ale at the Green Dragon that night, and the smoke from all the pipes formed a dark cloud on the ceiling.

Finally, Allie made it out of the inn, followed by Berilac. They stood there in the chilly night with their hands in their pockets, waiting for Frodo and Merry to make it.

Berilac suddenly signed heavily beside her and she threw him a glance. The smile he had been harbouring all evening was now nowhere to be seen.

"I never thought this would happen to Pippin," he started bitterly. "His absence is even more obvious now that it's almost Yule. I have celebrated every Yule with Merry and Pippin up until now. I can't believe that it will never happen again."

Allie's eyes turned sad. "I miss him too as he was."

Berilac looked at her and then took a deep breath. "I know that this might not be a good time, but I just want to apologize for the way we parted last time. I should not have gotten mad at you."

"No, you should have. I was dense and foolish. I did not know a thing about how you were feeling," Allie answered after awhile.

Berilac rested his gaze on her, and she took a deep breath. "I know now what your words from back then mean. I realize how naïve I was back then to not even know something like that."

She fondled with her coat. "You told me that you liked me first, and I really thank you for that. You liked me when I was still a brat who was scared to death of her father and only knew how to fight and steal and play pranks on folk. You liked me even after you were caught inside that barn as I burned it down. You liked me in spite of everything, and you even had the courage to tell me. I really respect you for all that."

She looked down at her feet. "But… I don't know how to say this, but…" she bit her lip.

Berilac placed a hand on her shoulder, making her look up. She was surprised when she saw him smiling. "I know your answer already, Allie. I just wanted you to understand how I felt, and now you do. That's all I have ever asked for."

"Berilac…"

He scratched the scar on his cheek awkwardly. "It's all right. You don't need to feel bad. I will get over it."

He pointed towards something over her shoulder, and turning to look, she saw Frodo finally emerging from the crowd of the Green Dragon with Merry two steps behind him.

"If I'm going to lose," Berilac said, "I don't mind losing to him. He's a good lad."

It took Allie a moment to figure out what Berilac was implying. And then her eyes widened. Words of protests wanted to explode out of her mouth, but somehow she couldn't say them.

"It's not true." "What are you talking about?" "Stop being silly." "It's not like that at all," were all things she could have said, but none of them rang true as she struggled with them in her mind.

She turned a puzzled look onto Frodo and he chose that moment to look up from his conversation with Merry. Their eyes met, and in that instant something passed between them, an understanding, a revelation. As they looked at each other, she finally knew what that light in his eyes meant, and he knew that she knew. His lips parted slightly, and Allie clenched her coat in her fist.

"No way," she murmured, her heart hammering.

For no reason in particular, the conversation she had with Rosie months ago resurfaced in her mind. Back then, she was asking Rosie how she could tell when she liked someone as more than a friend, and what Rosie had said, she had memorized it perfectly.

_When you see him, your heart starts beating faster_. But her heart had stopped beating altogether that day on top of the party tree.

_If he touches you, it feels really embarrassing, but also warm and enticing at the same time._ But touching Frodo was not embarrassing; it was reassuring and made her feel safe.

_You want to spend all your time with him._ That one was true, she knew.

_But the most tell-tale sign_ – Rosie had said – _is one simple thing. You want to kiss him._

Allie was still looking at Frodo, and Frodo was looking back. His eyes were so blue, just like that time when she had landed on top of him and had ended up so close to him. Did she want to kiss him? She didn't know, she couldn't picture it, but the thought of kissing him did not evoke the kind of repulsion she had felt when Rosie had first talked about the act of kissing.

Somehow, she knew she only fulfilled half of the criteria that Rosie had listed, and yet, in spite of all that, there was no doubt in her mind as to how she felt about him. She was stunned, and she couldn't comprehend it. She had known Frodo for so long, and all this time, she thought the feeling she had carried within her was just mere friendship, a kind of warmth that arose from him replacing the hole in her life that Robin had left behind. However, maybe she had been all wrong all along.

"I just want to leave on a good note with you today for a change," Berilac's voice burst through her bubble of thoughts and brought her back to the present. "We can still be friends, can't we?"

Allie's heart was still staggering from her revelation, but she still managed to give Berilac a smile. "Yes, of course!"

* * *

_Yule's Night_

The winter days were colder than in previous years, and soon there was an epidemic of the common cold going around Hobbiton. Most hobbits who got it lamented over the bad timing of it.

"Why does this happen when it's Yule?" a hobbit lady said after hacking a cough.

Frodo was among the unlucky ones who got sick. His case wasn't as serious as some others, just a runny nose and a slight cough, but he was still depressed over getting sick on a holiday.

"Uncle Bilbo! I am fine! Truly! I can go celebrate with the others at the Party Tree!" he complained.

"Out of the question!" Bilbo said with finality. "We will be having dinner at home, and that is the end of it."

Frodo pouted and stomped his foot, but Bilbo was indifferent to his tantrum. Feeling defeated, Frodo wandered into the living room and sat on the cozy chair by the fireplace and wrapped himself up in a blanket to stare into the fire moodily.

The day before, Bilbo, Allie and himself had already decorated the walls of Bag End with tinsels, paper figures and bells. Allie had wanted to make a snowman this winter for Yule, but to everyone's bemusement, it still hadn't snowed at all.

"A Yule without snow is not really Yule," Merry had stated earlier.

Frodo sighed at the thought of his friends; he knew Merry, Berilac and Allie would all be going to the Party Tree where a celebration would take place with song and dance. Gandalf would be there too, and there would be fireworks. He ground his teeth in frustration at missing out on everything. Maybe he should go beg Bilbo one more time. But deep in his heart, he knew his uncle would be stubborn till the end.

That was why, when Bilbo came to him with his medicine and a glass of water, he just took it sullenly and then declared he was going to bed.

He was staring up at the dark ceiling of his room when a knock came on his window. Startled, he leaped to his feet and then went to look. Allie's face beamed at him from the outside as she knocked gently on the windowpane once more.

Frodo pushed the window open, and a chilly air current immediately threaded its way into his room.

"We came to save you," Allie declared seriously.

Frodo looked beyond her and saw Merry, Berilac, Sam, Rosie and Marigold all standing there smiling at him conspiratorially.

"You good fellows!" he exclaimed, touched.

"Dress up warmly and come join us!" Allie said. "But be quick or else Uncle Bilbo is going to find out!"

Frodo immediately went on to pull out his coat from inside his closet, along with a pair of gloves, a hat and a scarf. After struggling to put everything on as fast as he could, he finally came back to the window and jumped outside.

Allie and the others were waiting for him beyond the fence of Bag End, out of sight of the kitchen window, shuffling on their feet and blowing on their hands to keep them warm.

"It really is cold this winter," Merry mumbled into his gloves.

"And yet there is no snow," Rosie sighed.

Sam saw Frodo coming and came over to him worriedly. "Mr. Frodo! Are you sure you will be al right? I was against their idea of sneaking you out, but they wouldn't listen!"

Frodo beamed. "I've never felt better, Sam! I would never get over it if I missed out on those fireworks!"

"Come on!" Allie was already beckoning to them from further down the road.

Rosie giggled and sprinted to join her, and the others followed. They walked and talked animatedly as they approached the Party Tree. From miles away, sounds of music and laughter could already be heard. Feeling excited, the kids all broke into a run to finally arrive at the site of festivities.

Mingling into the crowd, they soon reached the center of the party where a big bonfire was burning. A circle of hobbits was crowded around it, extending their hands towards the flames as they welcomed the pleasant heat.

Berilac, Merry, Sam and Frodo looked around for signs of Gandalf, and finally saw him dancing with some other hobbits in the corner to the music of a flute.

Allie, Marigold and Rosie came to the base of the Party Tree and saw that the lower part was all decorated with garlands and colourful lamps shining in the night. Marigold clapped her hands delightedly. "I love Yule's night in Hobbiton!"

Allie agreed. "It is not like this at all in Buckland! It is so much more colorful in here."

The tempo of the music kicked up one notch and a circle of dancers formed around the bonfire. Rosie's face lit up as she took Marigold by the hand. "Come on, girls! Let's dance!"

Marigold seized Allie's hand in spite of her protests, and Rosie dragged them both inside the circle of dancers. A stranger took hold of Allie's hand, thus completing the circle, and soon everyone was jumping up and down excitedly around the fire to the sound of the music.

They danced for so long that a bead of sweat rolled down Allie's back in spite of the cold. But she didn't care; she hadn't had this much fun in a long time. When finally their circle broke and the other hobbits all went back to form little groups of their own, Rosie, Marigold and Allie came to a halt as well, trying to catch their breaths as they smiled at each other.

At that moment, there was an explosive sound followed by some sizzling noises; it made most hobbits turn around to look. And there, from where Gandalf stood, a group of fiery butterflies flew out towards the crowd, before disappearing into golden sparkles.

All of the kids cheered and rushed towards the Wizard, who was laughing whole-heartedly. "More! More!" they demanded.

Gandalf complied and set off another one higher into the sky, where it exploded in a circle of colors. Allie looked up in wonder. The fireworks were so bright that they almost lit up the night.

When she looked around her again, Rosie and Marigold were gone. She tried looking for them, but soon gave up on the impossible task. All she could see was a sea of heads and bodies. She wandered out of the center of the party towards the periphery, where there was less people. There was a tent erected at the corner, and suddenly she saw the head of the auburn wolf peeking inside it.

"Pippin!" she called in alarm as she rushed towards him.

The wolf looked up guiltily. _"Allie!"_ his voice squealed inside her head.

Allie sighed. "What are you doing here, Pippin? If someone sees you, it will be total panic!"

"_I'm being careful,"_ Pippin assured. "_I just wanted to see some of the fireworks! They are so bright! And I smell more from inside this tent! Allie, go ask that Wizard to fire them all!"_

Allie couldn't help smiling at the childish sparkle in the wolf's eyes. Seeing that Pippin could still have fun in spite of everything that happened cheered her up as well.

_"Oh, someone is coming!"_ Pippin said and then disappeared in the shadows.

Allie turned around to see Merry striding towards her with a wave. "Allie! There you are!" he said upon reaching her. "Come! They are giving out some food in one of the tents!"

Allie threw a last glance behind her and then let herself be dragged away by Merry. She just hoped Pippin would not get himself in trouble by being seen.

Merry and Allie joined the others as they all waited in line for their bread and fried sausages. When Allie got hers, she discreetly got rid of the bread and just ate the sausage. Then, they also got themselves a cup of hot chocolate and sat near the campfire giddily, talking about the holiday season. Merry and Berilac also had projects at school this year. Berilac had been assigned to the windmill, and Merry to the fields. Frodo and Marigold were both at a farm. Needless to say, Frodo was relieved beyond measure when he hadn't been assigned to the watermill owned by Sandyman. As for Sam, he was still working on his gardening, and Rosie was learning from her brother how to manage the bar at the Green Dragon.

Allie listened to them all talk excitedly about their plans for the upcoming new year and suddenly was stroke by the thought that she didn't have any. What was she going to do from now on? She had tried so hard not to think of her future lately, that now that she finally allowed her thoughts to go there, everything was blank. In any case, her future would probably no longer involve anything hobbit related. She did not know how long she had before her transformation would be final. Perhaps she needed to have a serious talk with Councillor on the subject one of these days.

Deep in thought, her cup tilted a little in her hand and some hot liquid spilled out of it and onto Frodo's pants.

She snapped out of it when she heard him cry out.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, baffled. She dug out a handkerchief from one of her pockets and tried to wipe it off.

"Don't bother," Frodo said. "I will just wash it later."

"I will get it off in a second," she persisted. "It was hot, wasn't it?"

Frodo seized her hand to stop her. "No harm done."

"But…"

She raised her eyes and met his laughing gaze. She froze at the sight of his face; he tended to do that to her lately. She knew why she was feeling this way now, but knowing just made her heart thump harder. Frodo's hand was still around hers, and somehow his touch paralyzed her completely.

Sam cleared his throat loudly beside them, and Frodo quickly let go of her hand with a blush. Allie also looked away awkwardly, reminding herself to breathe. Rosie was trying not to giggle, Merry hadn't noticed, and Berilac was watching the scene with resigned amusement. Only Marigold looked away, troubled, and took a sip of her drink somberly.

At that moment, a firework bigger than all the others rose up into the sky, exploding into a pattern of giant roses. Everybody cheered, and all the kids reported their attention back to the skies bursting open in sparkling lights.

And then finally, it was midnight. Everywhere, hobbits exchanged hugs and told each other "Merry Yule's night."

"Merry Yule's night, Allie," Frodo told her with a smile.

"Merry Yule's night, Frodo," she replied, her grey eyes brimming with happiness.

Frodo hadn't seen her this happy for a while now; he was more glad than ever to have sneaked out that evening to go to the party. It had been a special night spent in company of his friends, and in company of Allie.

"I wish Pippin could have been here," he said in a voice only meant for her.

"Oh, he is." Allie chuckled. "I saw him lingering around. He seemed excited to see the fireworks."

Frodo's gaze lit up at that. "Good to know!"

After that, everyone got ready to go home to spend the rest of the night with their families.

Marigold and Sam left first, waving goodbye to everyone else. Rosie left with Merry and Berilac, who were both living with relatives in Bywater; Allie and Frodo also prepared themselves to walk back home.

"Bilbo must have noticed your absence by now. You will probably get yelled at," Allie said with one eye closed.

Frodo smiled. "I don't mind! It was all worth it."

As they walked home together, the first snowflake finally drifted down from the dark cold sky. Allie raised her hand, palm facing upwards, and watched as the snowflakes landed on her glove. She stared at them until they melted, smiling. Perhaps she would get to build her snowman soon.

"Finally!" Frodo murmured.

"It's snowing late this year," Allie agreed.

Frodo tugged on her coat. "Happy birthday, Allie!"

She startled a little at this; she had almost forgotten that her birthday was supposed to be on the first snowfall of the year. She couldn't believe that he kept remembering that; it made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.

"Thank you," she answered.

"So, your birthday is on the same day as Yule this year. It must be a good sign!"

She looked at him expectantly. "Do I get a special treatment then?"

Frodo scratched his head. "I didn't have time to prepare the lights for you this year."

She faked disappointment, but seeing Frodo's contrite expression, she soon laughed out loud and knocked him a little on the shoulder. "It's all right, because I actually have something."

She rummaged through her pocket, but bit then her lip timidly and looked up at him from behind her curly bangs. Slowly, she took her hand out of her pocket, clenching something in her fist.

She stopped walking, and Frodo stopped too, now very curious. "What do you have there?"

"Well, I heard that in the Shire, you are supposed to give out something on your birthday. Is that right?"

"Yes, but only if you hold a party. If you don't, then you don't need to give out presents."

Allie tapped the point of her foot nervously against the ground. "Well, I'm not holding a party, but I still have something. I know it's not really how the tradition works, but still."

Frodo gazed at her curiously. "You have something for me?"

She chanced a glance to his face and then took a decisive breath before opening up her fist and letting a necklace dangle in front of Frodo's eyes. It was a flat polished circular stone of a pale white color hanging from a black chain. It looked much like the full moon.

"I saw it the other day at the market," she mumbled quietly.

When Frodo took it, the stone actually split into two perfect halves. He then realized that it was two distinct necklaces with each pendant dangling at the end of a separate black chain.

She seized one and let the other drop on his palm. "It looks like the two halves of the moon, doesn't it? One is for you, and one is for me." Her voice was small but still carried clearly among the twirling snowflakes.

Frodo's heart staggered. Those were couple necklaces. Did she know what they meant? He searched her face as he held his breath.

Under his stunned eyes, she put on her necklace. The half moon shimmered brightly against her coat, at chest level. "I will never take mine off, if you won't," she murmured, looking up at him shyly.

Slowly, Frodo put on the necklace as well. "I will never take mine off either, if you won't," he replied in the same tone.

Allie's eyes were shining as she took in the necklace hanging around his neck. Frodo caressed the polished stone, and trying to keep his voice even, he started: "I have seen these types of necklaces at the market. Do you know that… they are for two hobbits who, well, like each other?"

She bit the side of her cheek when she sensed him gazing at her in fear and yet expectation. She took a deep breath and whispered: "Yes, I do. I-I know that. "

Never had spoken words shaken him up so much.

Allie met his widened blue eyes and licked her lips nervously. "I hope that's all right."

Frodo shook his head and then clasped her shoulders firmly. "All right? It is more than all right!" he finally managed to exclaim with a smile so full of joy that it seemed to light up his entire face.

She echoed his smile as a warm tint colored her cheeks. The smile faded somewhat when she heard him coughing. "Come on, let's go back. I don't want your cold to get worse."

They resumed walking quietly. Frodo discreetly pinched himself to make sure this wasn't a dream. He had been trying for a while to do what Rosie had suggested he did; he had been trying to find the right time to tell her that he liked her, but somehow, now he didn't think he needed to do that anymore. And Allie hadn't said the words explicitly either, but her actions just now spoke more than those three simple words ever could.

Her hand brushed against his as they walked. Without second guessing himself too much, Frodo reached out and took her hand in his in the next stride. After a while, she closed her own fingers around his hand. At this, he couldn't help grinning widely.

They had held hands plenty of times before, but this time they both knew it meant something different, something more.

Nothing would ever be the same, and Frodo should have been scared that the relationship they had had all these years had crumbled in the time it took him to hold her hand and she to hold back, but somehow he just felt hopeful and delighted at the new relationship that was budding between them in this December night.

Allie looked at him walking beside her and wondered when it was that he had suddenly become the center of her world. Was it that time when she had landed on top of him? Or perhaps up there on the Party Tree? Or maybe when he had told her he would never let her be alone, even after witnessing her transformation into a wolf? Or maybe it was on that day when she had finally spoken again for the first time after coming to Hobbiton? Or perhaps when he had come to find her in Buckland with Bilbo and had saved her from that hell her father had created?

Or was it even before then?

She didn't know; couldn't tell for sure, but at that moment, as they walked hand in hand with snowflakes in their hair, all she knew was that she never wanted to let go of him.

_Please_ – she thought ardently to whoever was listening – _I don't want to part ways. I want to stay with him forever as I am now. I don't want to be a wolf. I just want to live a normal life as a hobbit, with him by my side. Please, make time stop._

However, in spite of her pleas, time continued flowing, and soon they were back at Bag End. And Frodo let go of her hand to push open the door.


	29. Don't Forget

**Don't Forget**

The next day, Frodo's cold worsened and he even came down with a fever. Bilbo was not helping his case by telling him "I told you so" every five seconds as he brought him cold compresses and herbal medicine. Frodo didn't even have the energy to reply, too busy coughing and sneezing all day.

Bilbo wandered into the kitchen with a sigh and saw Allie standing there keeping an eye on the chicken broth cooking over the fire with a contrite expression on her face.

"And you, Allie," Bilbo stated sternly for the hundredth time, "I am so disappointed in you. How could you help Frodo sneak out when he was already sick?"

"I'm sorry," Allie murmured weakly with her head bowed down.

Bilbo huffed in resignation. "Well, I need to go get more medicine from the healer. I would rather go to my friend Dom the herbalist's place, but he lives too far."

Allie started wringing her hands nervously at this. "Just go see that healer from Hobbiton," she suggested.

Bilbo eyed her. "That I will. Keep an eye on that soup."

Allie nodded and Bilbo left, still muttering under his breath.

Allie let herself sink on the chair and drew her knees close to her chest. She felt really guilty now. If she had known that Frodo was going to get this sick, she wouldn't have proposed to the others to sneak him out. When the chicken soup was ready, she served it inside a bowl, put the bowl on a tray and then carefully carried it to Frodo's room.

She put the tray down on his night-stand stable and then pulled open the curtains to let the winter sun shine in.

Frodo was lying down under layers of blankets, breathing laboriously. He cracked an eye open when he sensed the light.

"Do you want to eat?"

He coughed and then shook his head.

"It is chicken soup though. It will be good for you," she insisted.

"I'm not hungry," he replied hoarsely.

He tried to get up and Allie helped him, arranging the pillows behind his back. His body felt warm everywhere. She sat on the chair beside his bed and chewed the inside of her cheek guiltily.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault," she finally let out sadly.

"What are you talking about? I wanted to go," he replied. "Don't worry about it. It will go away…"

His words dissolved into a coughing fit.

"All right, shush now," Allie said worriedly. "And drink your soup or Bilbo is going to kill me."

She put the tray on the bed and Frodo reluctantly took the spoon. Under her careful gaze, he finished the bowl. Allie gave him an encouraging smile when he was done, and put the tray back on the table.

Frodo lied back down wearily. Allie took the already warm compress, dipped it inside the water to cool it, and then placed it back onto his forehead. Frodo's hand sneaked from under the covers and seized hers before she could take it away.

"Yesterday… it was real, wasn't it?" his eyes were looking up at her intensely, shining with fever but also something else. His other hand found his necklace and clenched it. Allie's necklace was shining slightly from behind her own shirt.

Her cheeks turned slightly pink. "Of course it was real. Now get some sleep."

He relaxed. "I just wanted to make sure. I don't want this all to be a dream caused by my fever."

Allie sat on the bed. "You better remember this as reality. I'm not saying all those embarrassing things twice."

"You didn't really say much."

She pouted. "What do you mean? I said… Anyway, you know what I said."

Frodo's chuckle soon became a cough. After the fit ended, he leaned back, exhausted. "I hate being sick."

"Who doesn't?" she replied softly.

They sat there in silence, and the only sound that could be heard was that of Frodo's laborious breathing.

"I can't sleep," he muttered with his eyes closed.

Allie stood up, went to his shelves and then picked out a book. "What if I read you a story? I have been practicing my reading all this time dutifully, you know? Even with the whole wolf thing going on."

"My mother used to read me stories all the time when I was sick," he said with a small smile as he remembered her voice.

Allie went to sit back on her chair and turned her book towards the light coming from the window. The title of the book read _Legends of Middle Earth_.

"This sounds interesting."

"It's a new book that Bilbo gave me for my birthday... or rather his birthday... oh, it doesn't matter since we share the same one," Frodo murmured impatiently with his eyes closed, feeling a little delirious. "In any case, I haven't had time to read it yet."

Allie flipped through the pages. "Oh, there is a chapter here on the Old Forest! Do you want to hear that one?"

He nodded.

She rearranged the compress on his forehead, cleared her throat and began reading: "The Old Forest… is situated on the east side of the Brandywine river bo… bordering Buckland. The trees of the Old Forest had a strange repu…reputation. They appeared to be able to commu…nicate with each other."

She paused. Ever since she had become a wolf, she had wandered inside the Old Forest a few times; she didn't go very far, just staying at the periphery. The evil presence she had felt when she entered the Forest as a hobbit was lessened by a few notches when she had been a wolf. Maybe the trees just hated hobbits.

She reported her attention back onto the book and continued reading. After a while, it was getting too hard so she started inventing things instead of dutifully reading the letters swimming in front of her eyes.

She stopped when she heard Frodo's breathing becoming more regular. There were still some lines on his forehead, as though he was experiencing something unpleasant, but overall he looked calmer than when she had first come in. Slowly, she slid her hand out of his and pulled up his blanket to his chin, tucking him in.

"Sleep well," she mouthed silently.

Then, she quietly left the room on her tip toes with the tray in her arms.

* * *

That afternoon, after Allie came back home from playing outside in the snow with her friends, she found the house deserted and eerily silent. Was Bilbo not back yet?

She decided to check on Frodo real fast before fixing herself something to eat. She opened his door a little and peered inside, but frowned upon finding the room empty and his blanket hanging down one side of the bed. Had he gotten up? Was he feeling better?

"Frodo?" she called out as she walked out into the hallway.

But only silence answered her. Frowning, she went to check all the rooms of Bag End, but every single one was empty. She doubted Frodo would go outside though; he was still pretty sick that morning.

Slowly, her steps led her back to Frodo's room. Somehow, her heart was pounding uneasily in her chest. She stood in the middle of his room and slowly looked around.

The window was open. _Why was it open?_

She ran to it and peered out into the garden. The snow was still falling thickly outside, erasing any traces that could have been left behind. Pacing inside Frodo's room like a caged animal, she felt nervousness gain her over with each second of Frodo's absence.

Throwing all caution to the wind, she transformed into a wolf right there and then, ripping out her clothes. The chain of her moon necklace also broke with a snapping sound and the half moon pendant fell to the floor and rolled out of sight. But Allie didn't even notice. Her grey eyes narrowed in dismay when she caught the scent of wolves everywhere inside the room. Wolves that did not belong to her pack!

And among their scent was that, distinctive, of Frodo. Nose close the ground, she sniffed everywhere, feeling her fur stand on edge as she finally stopped in front of the window and peered outside into the snowy hills. Wolves had come and had dragged Frodo away!

Jumping out of the window and into the garden, she leaped through the wooden gate and dashed across the fields till she reached the woods. Concentrating on Frodo's scent, she launched forwards madly, heart beating in desperation. She connected herself to the Blood to ask her pack for help, but the wave of alarm that bombarded as soon as she made the connection made her literally stagger.

The size of her pack had been reduced in half!

And then Informant's voice was roaring inside her head angrily: "Where have you been? How can you not be in your wolf form when a crisis like this is happening?"

"What is going on?" she asked in dismay.

"Those of the North Moors launched a surprised attack on our main den this morning! I did not even see this coming. They must have been planning this for some time! Anyway, half of our wolves have been wiped out. Everyone is dead!"

That sent a chill down Allie's spine, and she ran faster, following Frodo's scent and that of his kidnappers.

"Allie, you need to come immediately," Councillor urged. "We have to regroup and think of a counter attack."

"No," she answered, "wolves have taken my friend! I need to find him, and fast."

"Now is not the time to be worrying about a Halfling! Our wolves are dead!" Informant howled angrily.

"Wait," Councillor intimated. "Are you tracking your friend's scent right now?"

"Yes. The wolves have taken him up North."

And then comprehension dawned on both of them at the same time. "Those who took him are from the North Moors! The same ones that killed our wolves!" she exclaimed. "But why?"

"You will know when you get there," Hunter's harsh voice cut through their conversation. "I am close to where you are. I will join you."

"I am with Hunter right now, Allie. We will meet up with you in a few miles," Pippin's voice also echoed inside of her.

"This is ridiculous! Why are you all heading into enemy camp after they have wiped out half of our forces?" Informant snarled. "We are disorganized right now and at a disadvantage! They could kill us all!"

"All the more reason to deal with them as fast as possible. We cannot give them the time to plan another attack," Allie growled. "Informant, regroup the rest of the pack who is still alive and follow me."

"I refuse!" Informant snarled. "This is madness!"

"Those wolves killed your comrades! What more incentive do you need?"

Informant's voice was filled with rage. "Do you not see? It is a trap to lure us all in. We need to collect more information to organize a better plan of action!"

"There is no time for that!" Allie howled angrily. "My friend is very sick! If the wolves are keeping him outside at this temperature, he could die!"

"Your attack is purely personal! You cannot think like that! You have to consider the well being of the pack above all else! Would you sacrifice every wolf just to save someone who is not even one of our own?"

She could now sense confusion in the minds of all the wolves who were listening to their conversation. She skidded to a halt in the snow. She needed to deal with this issue once and for all.

"Listen to me carefully!" she barked into the minds of every wolf. "I don't know how the previous Queen has been running this pack, but I do things differently! I will not sit back and do nothing when people who are important to me are in danger! Remember, you might be wolves, but you are not the same as other mindless animals! You do not just kill and hunt in cold blood. Even though you are in this form right now, you were born as people with values, as people who knew about friendship, about loyalty! You are first and foremost people who were taught to keep your promises and to protect what is dear to you! You all had a past from before you became wolves. Never forget that!"

Every wolf cowered under the intensity of her voice.

"I could use the Blood to submit all of you to my will, to force you to follow orders, but that's not how I wish to do things. You all have your own will, and you can all think for yourselves. I want you to think about what is right, and I want you to follow me willingly."

There was a silence after she was done speaking. Her heart was pounding. She had given them a choice. Would they choose to leave her, or to follow her?

"I was angry at you for chiding me when I killed the Protector of the North Moors," Hunter was the first to speak up in his harsh tone. "I was angry because you accused me of not thinking for myself. I was angry because you were right. Wolves, listen! Before I became Hunter, I was a man of the South, a Haradrim. I had almost forgotten about that past until now. I was a warrior back then, a leader among leaders. I was proud and bold, and I remember now clearly the sight of the red banners we bore into battle. I made all the decisions and my army listened to my every command. But all of that changed after I became a wolf. It has been years since I have made a single decision or thought for myself. It has been years of servitude, of obeying blindly, not differentiating what is right from what is wrong."

His unique blue eye glinted ominously. "But now I choose to reclaim my humanity. Allie, you are my Queen, and I shall follow you till the day I die."

There was a murmur, a vague of nostalgia running among the pack.

"I was an Elf of Mirkwood," Councillor said quietly in his penetrating voice. "I have lived long and seen many battles, whether among my own people or among the wolves. I have been with this pack for four hundred years already, quite short a time by Elvish standards. And yet, somehow, it seems as though an eternity has passed already, without me accomplishing much. Perhaps all of that can change now if I choose to follow our Queen. Yes... I choose to walk down the road you are paving for us, because I am curious as to where it shall lead."

"I will always follow you, Allie," Pippin declared. "As a hobbit or as a wolf, it doesn't matter. You know this already."

There was another murmur among the recruits, and then all the wolves started speaking up at the same time:

"I was a man of Rohan."

"I was a farmer."

"I was a merchant of Bree."

"I was a traveller."

"I was a father."

Their voices were animated, full of emotions they had forgotten they still possessed; their eyes glistened as the rusty door to the past creaked open inside their souls. Memories from ages ago flowed inside of them, submerging them, and suddenly they felt as though their old selves had awakened from inside their wolf bodies.

"Wolves," Allie spoke up softly. "Thank you for this choice. Time is running short to save the person who matters the most to me. I hope you can all understand and I hope you will fight. Not _for_ me, but _with_ me."

She howled hauntingly, and all the wolves of her pack howled back in unison. Then, as one, the pack started moving towards the North, towards where the enemy pack laid in wait. They knew it might be a trap, but they ran forwards nonetheless, a feeling of freedom and of power ringing inside their chests.

Everyone that is, except Informant.

After pushing north of the Old Forest, everywhere Allie looked, she saw white piles of snow.

_Frodo!_ She thought urgently. _Frodo! You have to be all right!_

After jumping over another hillock of snow, three wolves of the enemy pack suddenly launched at her from out of nowhere. Their fur was snow white, which they had used to their advantage to conceal themselves in the snow.

Allie didn't hesitate. In a flash of gold, she was jumping from one wolf to the other, jerking them to the ground and ripping out their muscles, bones and arteries, leaving them in a pool of blood.

She quickly sniffed the cold air and managed to make out the scent of more wolves waiting for her down the snowy hill in ambush. The wolves knew that she had sensed them, and they lurched out of their hiding places, white shadows against the snow.

Allie let out a snarl and charged forward. Soon, she was battling it out with three wolves at a time, trying to bite one down while two others clawed at her back. She was starting to yield under the effort when suddenly her enemies let out a whine as they were ejected from the ground.

Allie turned around to see the giant shape of Hunter delineating itself against the cold sky. Pippin was following close behind, baring his fangs bravely.

Hunter's giant paw crushed one of the white wolves' skull in a single blow. "Go!" His fierce blue eye urged. "Go!"

The golden wolf flashed him a look of gratitude before pushing past. Pippin, her Protector, followed her.

As they passed below a tall slope, a snow avalanche suddenly rolled down towards them. Allie pushed herself off the ground as fast as she could and managed to dodge the worst of it. She looked back and saw Pippin a few miles back, shaking his fur violently as he emerged from the snow tide.

In the wake of the avalanche, a group of wolves emerged from the hill and launched down towards them, eyes glistening with bloodlust.

Pippin stood in front of them, waiting for them to arrive, his green eyes full of anger as he urged the recruits of his unit to come join him.

"Go, Allie!"

"But…"

"Go save Frodo!"

Allie nodded and without looking back, launched herself into the woods, still following Frodo's scent. She ran and ran, faster and faster. The snow covered trees passed by in a blur. Frodo was close now, she could sense it.

In a clearing filled with snow, she finally came upon a small group of wolves who seemed to be waiting for her. She immediately knew that the black wolf in the middle was the Queen of the pack.

Behind her, she finally spotted Frodo! He was sitting on the snow with his back to a tree. His face was pale and he had his arms crossed over his chest as he shivered. He wasn't even wearing a coat!

Feeling anger pulsing through the very marrows of her bones, she howled aggressively. Frodo lifted his head stiffly, with effort, his lips blue from the cold. A glint of hope appeared in his eyes upon seeing her, and he mouthed her name through chattering teeth. She wanted to go to him, but two wolves stepped forward and blocked her path. Allie threw herself at them, but they pushed her back with a snarl. She killed one of them on the spot, but soon a circle of enemies formed around her.

"How dare you bring an innocent person here?" she growled in direction of the black wolf.

"To draw you to us," their Queen answered placidly. "How dare you kill my Protector? Do you know how much trouble I went through to get a new one? Your offence shall not go unpunished! It is lucky that my previous Protector had time to tell me of your weakness before he died. Lucky indeed."

"You wanted me, and here I am. Now bring him back to his home!"

The Queen's red eyes filled with mockery. "I cannot do that. I can see how desperate you are upon seeing him suffer. So, as punishment, I have decided not to kill you, but to kill him instead."

The Queen signalled to the two wolves standing on each side of Frodo, and one of them approached the hobbit immediately. Frodo offered no resistance when his face got pinned to the snow by the wolf's paw.

"Leave him alone!" Allie roared, and then started clawing, biting and tearing at everything she could reach, a golden flash of fury wreaking havoc among the wolves surrounding her.

She was battling it out with five wolves at a time, and more kept coming from the depths of the woods. Allie pounced on them relentlessly, her small frame helping her dodge the attacks from the enemy while she sank her teeth on every open area of flesh she could find. Her rage was making her blind to the pain of the injuries the others wolves were inflicting upon her. Her grey eyes kept travelling to Frodo still pinned against the ground. She was animated by one single ferocious thought: she had to save him.

After killing off the last one, she twirled in a flash of gold and launched herself at the black Queen. The latter marked a moment of surprise, but then launched forward as well. Allie's eyes were hard as steel as she bit off chunks of flesh off the other wolf's shoulder. Queen snarled in pain and backed off; she then signalled to the two wolves guarding Frodo to attack her instead as she retreated.

"Coward!" Allie barked before launching herself at her new enemies. They came at her at the same time. She fended off one, but the other managed to cut a deep gush on her hind leg. She cowered in the snow in pain, and both wolves saw this as a chance to finish her off.

One of them pounced on her from above, but Allie suddenly slid underneath him, arched her neck and used her fangs to tear his stomach open from front to back. Blood and organs spilled out into the snow at her feet. The wolf landed beside her, dead. However, her moment of respite was short, for the second one was already coming at her from behind.

Allie collided her flank against his and started struggling, but she was at the wrong angle and could not muster enough strength to get him off her. At this moment, Pippin suddenly appeared by her side in a flash of auburn and landed on top of her aggressor, sinking his teeth into his neck. Pippin's auburn fur was already dirtied with blood, but his green eyes now shone ominously in rage and bloodlust as his wolf body instinctively guided him in battle.

He managed to pull the other wolf off Allie, and Allie quickly twirled around, sank her fangs deep in the throat of his enemy and bit at the flesh and tissue violently until she ripped the wolf's head off his body altogether. Blood dripped from her open jaw as she now turned her eyes to the black Queen. The latter was presently alone, looking at the scene through alarmed red eyes.

The three wolves then circled in the snow, growling, with Pippin and Allie each pressing forward from one side as the Queen retreated.

Suddenly, Allie was distracted by Frodo coughing as he tried to crawl back to safety.

One second later, the black Queen was towering over Frodo, wearing a wolfish grin. "If you come, I will kill this Halfling whom you seem to care so much about."

Allie let out a howl of rage, but didn't dare approach. Pippin also growled low in his throat, restless.

Panic quickly grew in Allie's chest as she eyed the way Frodo was panting painfully in the dry cold air, looking weaker and weaker by the second. She needed to do something!

At that moment, Frodo mustered some of his strength, seized a handful of snow and threw it at the eye of the black wolf. That split second of inattention was enough for Allie to thrust herself against the other Queen's body, sending her flying. In mid-air, Allie ducked her head underneath the Queen's stomach and closed her jaw on the flesh there. Queen wreathed in pain and Allie pulled hard with her teeth, ripping a large wound on the belly of the black wolf.

The Queen landed on the snow, and Pippin was already on her. Not giving her time to recover, he struggled to keep her to the ground, biting and clawing at her face until her head was a bloody mess.

"That's for hurting Frodo!" he snarled.

Pippin saw Allie coming and pulled the black wolf's head back by the ear, exposing her throat to Allie's waiting fangs.

"Protector! Hunter!" The black wolf called out desperately to the core of her pack. However, no one came. They were all engaged in battle elsewhere.

Just when Allie was about to strike down on her helpless body, her Councillor came out of the woods like a shadow. He slashed away at Allie and Pippin, and they both had to jump away to avoid being blinded by his claws. The black Queen stood up on her legs with difficult, her head dripping blood, and then escaped into the woods, followed by her Councillor. Pippin went to give pursuit, but Allie didn't have time to deal with them anymore.

She crouched down urgently beside Frodo and licked his face. Frodo turned one blue eye to look at her, his body almost in a catatonic state. Allie urged him silently with her eyes until Frodo, still panting weakly, seized her fur and let her hoist him up onto her back. Then, she leapt forward through the snow as fast as she could.

There was an enraged howl from deep inside the forest, somewhere behind her, and then dark shapes started bouncing out from among the trees, giving her chase. The black Queen had probably given them orders to kill her.

She tried to run fast, but gave it up when she felt Frodo slipping. Frodo was coughing again and his grip on her fur was weakening by the second. Her grey eyes swiped her surroundings in alarm when she saw that the other wolves were closing in on her. As she leaped over a snow bullock, Frodo's body suddenly slid from her back. He fell down in the snow and rolled a couple of times before coming to a stop.

Allie rushed back towards him desperately. The first enemy wolf was already over Frodo, sharp teeth ready to slice open his throat. In one last desperate bound, Allie managed to make it in time to knock the other wolf away.

Then, she lied on top of Frodo, crouching over him with her belly touching him as she spread out her legs protectively around him. Snarling violently at the circle of enemy wolves approaching, she waited. The circle of wolves snarled back and then attacked her all at the same time. Allie bowed her head down low and crouched down lower to shield Frodo completely.

Claws and teeth rained down upon her, slicing open her back, her head, her ears, her tail. She could feel the blood running down in streams from the gushes on her body, staining the snow red all around her. Bites and blows rained down on her relentlessly. She had the feeling she was being devoured alive, but still she refused to budge.

Even if she died, she would protect Frodo until the end. That was her decision, and she was at peace with it.

Just when her legs were about to give way underneath her, a loud squeal resounded near her head as the wolf who was biting at her neck was thrown in the air. Blinking the blood away from her eyes, she lifted up her head slowly and made out Hunter jumping from one wolf to another, killing them with a single bite of his huge fangs.

Further away, even Councillor was baring his fangs as he pounced on another wolf. And as far as her eye could see, there were wolves of her own pack battling it out with those of the enemy pack. The snow underneath their paws was all stained red.

Slowly, she got off Frodo and saw that her blood had flowed all over him as well, sinking into his clothes, staining them. She bent down and sniffed him carefully, but she didn't catch the scent of his own blood. So at least he hadn't been injured physically.

Panting in pain at the long gushes all over her back, she crouched down beside him once more. Frodo's face was frightened he took in her appearance through eyes half open.

"Allie…" he croaked out weakly and touched her bloody fur.

Allie looked at him urgently, growling a little.

Frodo managed to push himself off the ground on one elbow, but then he was coughing violently again, a hand to his chest. Allie was alarmed at how sick he looked. She needed to get him home before it was too late.

At that moment, Hunter's teeth closed on Frodo's shirt. Under Allie's stunned eyes, he lifted Frodo off the ground and dropped him off onto Allie's back. Frodo's hand closed on the long fur of her neck as he lied against her, shivering sporadically.

"Thank you, Hunter!" Allie stated softly.

"Good luck," Hunter growled before throwing himself against another enemy.

Allie sprinted away on the snow, trying to go as fast as she could without bouncing too much. Frodo's body was now shivering badly from the cold and the fever.

_We are almost there!_ she thought fervently to herself, pawing at the snow, leaving a trail of blood in her every footstep.

And then, Hobbiton village was in sight. Allie clenched her teeth, blinked away the blood still flowing down from her ripped ear and pushed forward into the village.

Frodo's fist tightened around her fur.

"Don't…" he begged hoarsely through his chattering teeth and burning lungs. "Don't… go…"

But she continued marching forward determinedly, her eyes shining with pain not only at her injuries, but at what was going to happen to her now.

A loud shriek told her that she had been spotted by the first hobbit. Alarmed faces looked out from their windows and behind the fences of their gardens as the big bloody wolf limped past their smials, carrying a hobbit on its back.

The march towards Bag End had never seemed so long. Everywhere, hobbits she knew were pointing at her in horror, screaming, running away, or frozen on the spot. Amid the horrified faces, she detected those of Rosie, Marigold, Merry, Berilac and Sam.

_So everyone is here_, she thought defeatedly, _everyone will see at once. Maybe it's a blessing._

The door to Bag End flew open and Bilbo descended the marches on shaky legs.

"Frodo!" he roared upon seeing blood all over his nephew.

He eyed the bloody wolf with terror, but his love for Frodo won over. He stepped close to the wolf determinedly and quickly swept Frodo up into his arms. Then, he stepped back hurriedly and looked at the wolf again. Allie saw Frodo in Bilbo's arms, finally safe, and let herself relax for the first time.

The other hobbits were all approaching Bag End now, murmuring madly among themselves. Allie took a deep breath and forced herself to go back to hobbit form. As soon as the transformation was over, she knelt down on the ground because of the cutting cold and of the scorching pain of her injuries. Dark spots danced in front of her eyes but she blinked them away.

Slowly, she raised her head to look at the expression of utmost shock on everyone's faces.

"It's me…" she announced weakly. "Don't be scared. I don't mean to harm any to you."

Turning towards Bilbo's flabbergasted face, she whispered: "Frodo just needs to be warmed up. All that blood… is not his. Don't worry."

She was panting now, and her vision swam in front of his eyes. As though through a vortex, he saw the expression of shock on the other hobbits' faces become horror, and then disgust, and then anger.

"It's the wild child," they were saying.

"I always knew she was a demon!"

"An aberration!"

"A monster!"

"We let something like that live among us all these years…"

"… and played with the children…"

"How terrible!"

"We have to chase her away!"

"Yes!"

Suddenly, all the hobbits were seizing whatever object at hand that could serve as a weapon: a shovel, a walking stick, a kitchen knife.

Allie threw a glance back at Bilbo, but he was still holding onto Frodo tightly with a shocked expression.

"I'm sorry, Bilbo," she mouthed. Her eyes glided to Frodo and became filled with utmost guilt as she took in his shivering frame.

And then she was in her wolf form again. All the hobbits let out a squeal of terror and raised their temporary weapons. Allie dashed past them as fast as she could, limping badly. They chased her till the edge of the village, till the border of the woods.

"Uncle Bilbo! No!" Frodo whimpered against his shoulder and managed to lift his head. "It's Allie! Please!"

At this, Bilbo snapped out of it and ran forwards a little, his hazel eyes shining with tears. But the wolf was already gone, and so were the villagers chasing after her.

Frodo coughed against him, and Bilbo threw one last glance towards the deserted road before rushing into Bag End with Frodo. He put Frodo to bed and wrapped him up in all the blankets he could find. Frodo kept struggling, tears running down his cheeks.

"You have to go after her, uncle Bilbo!" he kept muttering through his fever. "She's badly injured! She was bleeding so much… you have to… save her… quick…"

"Silence, my boy! Silence!" Bilbo urged as he rubbed his hands along Frodo's arms to warm him up.

More tears spilled out of Frodo's eyes. "You have to go after her, Bilbo!" he begged again and again. "Don't let the villagers hurt her more!"

A coughing fit seized him again, leaving him utterly spent. Dark shadows were looming at the edge of his vision, closing in.

"Uncle Bilbo…" he begged one more time before collapsing on his bed.

"Frodo! Frodo!" Bilbo screamed as he shook his nephew.

* * *

Frodo didn't know for how long he slept; he kept having the urge to wake up, except he couldn't. His eyelids were as heavy as bags of lead, and his chest hurt so much he thought he could die. He was conscious now and then of shadows looming above him, of voices conversing quietly in the background, and then nothing.

When he finally managed to pry open his eyes, it was morning outside. But he didn't know which morning it was. How much time had passed ever since that wolf had burst through his window and taken him?

"Allie…" he muttered as he forced himself into a sitting position.

His head was still spinning and his forehead was hot. He felt like throwing up.

Immediately, the face of his uncle swam into his field of vision, slightly blurry. "Frodo, my boy, how are you feeling?"

"Allie… where is Allie?" Frodo asked numbly instead.

Bilbo shot him a compassionate glance. "Allie is all right," he reassured him. "You can speak to her when you feel better."

Hope swirled up inside his chest, but he quenched it down. "No," he croaked. "I want to see her now! Let me see her!"

Bilbo sighed, and then went outside. Frodo heard low voices of conversation drifting from the hallway, but somehow he didn't have enough energy to focus on what was being said. Everything was spinning ever so slowly.

Finally, the door opened again. Frodo managed to catch a pan of grey robes on the other side before his eyes focused on Allie standing there in front of him. She was limping as she approached his bed, and there were bandages all over her, but she was alive and here!

He called out her name in a stronger voice.

Allie slowly shuffled to his bed, her grey eyes warm. "Frodo, are you feeling any better now?

Frodo seized her hand. "I thought I had lost you forever!" he let out instead.

Allie sat down on her bed, her eyes shining.

"Gandalf saved me," she told him softly. "He brought me back here, but the villagers wouldn't stop knocking on the door and demanding explanations, and so Gandalf pacified them."

Frodo blinked slowly. "That's… good."

Allie bit her lip and squeezed Frodo's hand, hard. "Gandalf managed to get them to calm down by telling them he would take me away from here."

Frodo's head snapped up so fast the world started spinning even faster in front of his eyes. "But… those are just words, aren't they?" He touched a hand to his forehead to stop the spinning. "He is not really going to do that."

Her lack of response forced him to lift his head up. There was an expression of utmost distress on her face. "Frodo, it's true," she murmured painfully. "I have to leave with him."

Frodo felt the little forces he had left desert him all at once. Allie saw him sway on his bed and caught him by the shoulder, alarmed. "Are you all right? Do you need to lie down?"

But Frodo just leaned against her and closed his eyes.

"Where are you going? For how long?" he finally managed to ask, his breath hot against her neck.

"I don't know," she answered, her eyes shining with tears. "I don't know."

"Don't go!" he begged as one of his hands clasped the edge of her sleeve. "Or if you must, take me with you."

Slowly, Allie rested her hands on his shoulders and put some distance between them in order to look upon his face. "Your life is here, Frodo. In the Shire, with Bilbo. I think I just never belonged here. Now that my secret is exposed, the villagers will never allow me to stay. If I live with you, they will hate you too. I don't want that, so I told Gandalf I'm ready to leave with him."

"No, you can't do that." Tears were streaming down his cheeks, clinging to his chin, but he didn't care. "You don't have to do this… I will talk to the villagers if I have to… They will understand… They have to! How can they do this to you? They know nothing…"

Allie stared into his frantic blue eyes and felt grief gaining her over. "I really wanted to be with you for as long as I could. I wanted to live a normal life with you, but the thing is... I am not normal, Frodo. I am a wolf. And as long as I'm around, you will be in danger. I don't want you to get hurt again because of me, to get hurt like you were this time." Guilt crossed her eyes, mingled with sadness. "I would never forgive myself if something happens to you because of me. More than wanting to be with you, I want you to be safe. With me gone, you can lead a normal life here. You will not be burdened with keeping so many secrets, and the wolves will leave you alone. You will be fine." Her voice broke a little.

Frodo was slowly shaking his head, unable to believe what she was saying. Suddenly, he noticed the cloak on her shoulders, and it dawned on him that this was really happening. She really was leaving him.

"I don't mind the danger," he said desperately. "I really don't. I can handle anything. Ask Gandalf to take me with him too."

"Frodo, you don't know what you are saying. It's impossible."

"Why? Why is it impossible?" he screamed out, and then turned around to cough into his sleeve.

She closed her eyes and tears rolled down her cheeks. "Because you and I, we are different now. If you come with me, what happened today might just keep happening. And one day… one day I might not make it in time. I can't stand the thought of that, Frodo. You understand why, don't you?"

Frodo looked down at his lap in a daze. This had to be a nightmare caused by his fever. He would wake up and none of this would be real.

A knock came on the door and Gandalf's voice rose from the hallway: "Allie, it is almost time."

Frodo looked up at this and seized both of her hands in his, shakily. He looked at her in the eye and shook his head. "No… please… no! Why so soon?"

"The villagers are getting restless already. They are outside this very moment. They will only feel peace once they see me leaving with their own eyes."

"I will chase them away!" Frodo stated firmly and tried to get off the bed, but Allie's hand on his shoulder stopped him. She smiled a sad smile and shook her head once.

Frodo couldn't think clearly anymore. A monstrous headache was pulsing in his temples; he seized his head with two hands, suddenly feeling defeated and weak. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. If only I were stronger, if only I could handle this better, then you wouldn't need to leave."

Slowly, Allie cupped his face in her hands, and he was shattered at the sight of tears clinging onto her cheeks. "Don't ever be sorry, Frodo. Ever since the day we met, you have done more for me than anyone has since the day I was born. When I thought my life was over after those events in Buckland, you came and you saved me. You gave me my life back, and I believe I have changed for the better because of you." Her eyes shone tenderly. "You are my best friend, Frodo. You are the most important person to me, and that will never change. Thank you for everything."

Frodo couldn't speak; he just leaned against her again and she hugged him tight.

"I believe in fate," she spoke quietly into his ear. "If we are meant to meet again, we will. And I will try my best to remain Allie for when I see you next time. I will also be stronger. Way stronger than I am now, so that other wolves will never be able to threaten me again by hurting you. I promise."

Frodo was crying openly now. "If you only ask me to, I would go with you anywhere."

"I know," she whispered. "I know. And that's why I'm asking you to stay right here in the Shire where we met. Even if I will not be here anymore, I can think back to this place and picture you here, living your life as you have always done, and that will give me comfort."

She reached out a hand and touched the half moon pendant on his chest. Her other hand seized her own pendant now lying inside her pocket; after Gandalf had brought her back to Bag End from the woods, she had looked for it everywhere in spite of her injuries and had finally found it under Frodo's closet. "If it's all right with you," she whispered, "can I just ask you to not forget about me? If you promise that you will not, then I also promise that I will always remember you."

"I promise," he swore through his tears. "Of course that I promise!"

Allie peered into his teary eyes softly. "Please stay strong and be healthy again."

"If we are meant to meet, we will," Frodo repeated her words desperately, trying to convince himself.

She nodded, her blonde curls bouncing a little. "Yes, Frodo. We will."

The way Allie looked at that moment, stricken by grief at their impending separation, but still trying to smile bravely to put his heart at ease, Frodo didn't think he would forget it even if he lived to be one hundred.

She then leaned forward and planted a light kiss on his cheek in goodbye.

Then, Frodo watched as she slowly backed off until her back knocked against the door.

"There is something I want to say. Something important," Frodo spoke up desperately, trying to hold onto her for one more minute.

Allie looked at him poignantly. "You can tell me next time," she whispered. "Next time, when we meet again."

And then she was gone.

Frodo was left alone in the room. Slowly, he touched his cheek where she had kissed him, and clenched the blanket in a fist as he tried to contain the ache in his chest.

Outside his door, Allie heard him weeping and felt her own heart breaking as well.

Gandalf looked down at her compassionately and put a huge hand against her back in an encouraging manner. Bilbo was waiting for her in the kitchen, fidgeting his shirt with wide eyes.

"I am sorry, my lass. I am so sorry! I couldn't do anything for you."

She went to hug him and he hugged her back with all his strength, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Don't say that," Allie replied. "You gave me a home. You gave me warmth. I have spent the best years of my life here. I shall never forget you."

Bilbo cried as he pushed away from her and fumbled at her clothes, making sure her cape was well clipped on her shoulders, and that her scarf was securely wrapped around her neck. Then, he pulled on her clothes here and there, even though everything was in order. "You are a such a good lass," he said as his chin trembled, "such a good lass. Take care then. Eat well. You are like a daughter to me, and will always be."

"Uncle Bilbo..."

Bilbo stood up and turned away. "Go. Go now."

And so Gandalf took her out of Bag End. A crowd of silent hobbits was watching as the Wizard and the little hobbit girl stepped onto the cart.

"Allie!" Merry's voice called out frantically.

Allie turned in his direction and saw Merry, Berilac, Rosie, Marigold and Sam all standing there. They were looking at her with wide eyes filled with trouble and incomprehension and heartbreak. She gave them a small sad smile, and then the cart was set into motion.

As the horse pulled the cart farther and farther away down the road, she closed her eyes and clenched her hands tight on her lap. Behind her tightly pressed eyelids, Frodo's face suddenly appeared, looking so miserable, so lost. Her eyes flew open as the wild desire to throw herself off the cart and run back to his side seized her. Jerking up in her seat, she leaned out of the window of the cart to look back, but Bag End was already hidden by the hills.

"Frodo!" she screamed as hard as she could. "Frodo! Farewell!"

She watched as the outer smials of Hobbiton became smaller and smaller until they disappeared completely behind the hill. Only then did she sink back into her seat and allowed herself to sob harshly into her hands.

"Farewell," she cried. "Farewell, Frodo."

* * *

So! Are you guys liking this or not? Don't leave me in the dark here! Even if you have nothing much to say, just write a dot or something so that I know you're still reading. Believe me or not, hearing feedback from all of you is always a huge motivator, so please just take a few minutes of your precious time and click on the review button below :)

**Mallory:** haha ok, I got your review alright, all three parts of it. Thanks for much! I really missed hearing from you :) It seems that all your favorite scenes involve the Frodo/Allie cuteness haha. I'm an avid reader of romance myself, so those are also my favorite scenes to write. I'm so glad you are enjoying them because they will get even better once I get to work with the grown up versions of them both. ;) And about the Allie turning into a wolf thing, yes it's tragic, but tragicness always elevates love. I really don't know how I plan to end this just yet, but you can rest assured that you wouldn't have wasted your time reading this. Their journey, more than the ending in itself, will be gratifying, I'm sure. (But ok, IF it turns out that it's not a happily ever after, then you can hunt me down or something lol). Now, about Pippin, I just want to let you know that I did not make him Protector on a whim just for the shock factor; he was meant to become Protector since the very beginning. Yes, things will not turn out the same as they did in the movies, but that's alright because I didn't plan to follow the movie script to the letter in the first place. With the addition of Allie, a lot of events are bound to happen differently, which was my purpose for introducing original character(s). And oops, thanks for pointing out the correct spelling for "lest"! I like it when you are on a nitpicking rampage haha. I always welcome constructive criticism. I think it's really cool and it means you really care about what you're reading, which makes me happy. And wow, I'm glad my story is one the first ones you've been reading on the internet. That's pretty cool, I hope I'm living up to your expectations up until now! lol. I love Disney myself, but I've never thought of writing anything on the topic mainly because of the feeling of closure most Disney stories already have with their happily ever after ending. The last Disney movie I saw was Tangled, and I L-O-V-E-D it. Wow. That scene on the water, with the lights floating above? Brilliant! Took my breath away! :) I might need to watch it again now.


	30. Bilbo's Inheritance

**PART III: MIDDLE EARTH**

* * *

_19 years later_

* * *

**Bilbo's Inheritance**

"Take off your shirt."

Frodo obeyed slowly, his fingers fumbling with the buttons. He sighed internally when he saw the old lady's appreciative gaze roll up and down his bare chest.

Bilbo's big birthday party was coming up in two weeks. He couldn't believe his uncle was already 111 years old! For the occasion, Frodo knew he was in much need of some new clothes. That is why, by this warm afternoon of September, he was at the old dressmaker's smial, trying on the new set of clothes she had especially made for him. The dressmaker's name was Prima, and she had been making clothes since she was five years old. She was the finest in the Shire; that was no secret.

Frodo wasn't the only one who thought of requesting her services for the upcoming party. Indeed, Prima's schedule was full till the big day.

Frodo took the white shirt she was handing him and then put it on. As soon as he was done buttoning up, she was fumbling over him, pulling at the fabric here and there and measuring his collar.

"It looks fine," Frodo stated as he looked at himself in the long mirror. He was wearing brown trousers and a white shirt underneath a brown vest.

Prima clicked her tongue and pinched at the tissue underneath his arm. Then, she stuck a needle through the fabric there. "There are still some slight adjustments that I need to make. It's all right, you can take it off now. Mind the needle, lad!"

Frodo complied obediently, and started getting out of it.

Prima's sharp eyes observed him again with unhidden interest. "Looking at you really makes me nostalgic of the old days", she sighed melodramatically. Frodo knew she meant to imply that if only she was younger, she would go for him; but for his own sake, he pretended he didn't know where she was getting at. "My youth went away in the blink of an eye," Prima pursued sadly. "So you better make the most out of yours."

Frodo simply smiled.

"I'll wager you have a lot of young ladies knocking at your door every day," she continued keenly. "After all, it is rare to see a young lad as tall and fair as you in these parts."

Frodo blushed a little at the compliment, but otherwise remained silent. It was true that lately he had noticed the ladies watching with bright eyes and red cheeks as they whispered fervently among themselves. In addition to his growing good looks, he would also come of age this year. At the same time as Bilbo would turn 111, he would also become 33, an age that marked the end of his tween years and the start of adulthood.

"… a good age for marriage," Prima was saying.

Frodo snapped out of his thoughts. "Pardon me?"

"I said, finally becoming an adult means you have reached the right age to get married. I heard you have been seeing that Gamgee lass for the last few years. You should propose to her already and organize a big wedding. That way, I will get some good business as well." She laughed heartily.

Frodo's eyes widened at that. "It is still too early to think about marriage!"

"Too early?" Prima exclaimed. "If you like the lass, there is no reason not to get married."

Frodo didn't find anything good to reply to that, so he just smiled politely again and hastened to put his old shirt back on. The truth was that the thought of marriage had never even crossed his mind until now. It was true that Marigold and him had been seeing each other for some time now, but he was still holding onto the hope that he would first get to visit the outside world one day with Bilbo. He felt as though he wouldn't be satisfied until he did so. He didn't want all his life experience to be constrained to events inside the Shire; he wanted to see more and learn more about Middle Earth before he settled down.

Besides, Marigold probably wasn't thinking of marriage either. She was very busy lately with land deals and the like. She now finally owned her own farm and her own pipe-weed plantations, and he was very proud of her for that. They had celebrated at the Green Dragon with family and friends just the other day. Owning land and growing Tobby's leaf was Marigold's dream, whereas his own dream was to explore the outside world and to come back home with as many wonderful stories to tell as Gandalf did. He thought it was a sort of unspoken deal between them that they should each strive towards their own personal goals for the moment before making any kind of commitment.

And speaking of the Wizard, he knew that Gandalf would come to attend Bilbo's birthday party as well. He was more thrilled than words could express at Gandalf's imminent arrival, for the last time he had seen the old Wizard was already a couple of years ago.

"Your entire attire will be ready by tomorrow," Prima announced.

Frodo nodded. "Thank you."

"I will also have that Gamgee lass' dress ready, so bring her with you when you come. She will be delighted to see what I have in store for her, I am sure. It is a rare thing of beauty!"

Frodo chuckled at the excited look on the old lady's face, and promised her he would bring Marigold with him the next day.

As he bent down to pick up the bag of belongings he had left by the door, the necklace he was wearing dangled out of his shirt. Prima squint her eyes at the sight of it.

"That is a rather peculiar thing you are wearing around your neck," she commented.

Frodo looked down. "Oh, this? Just an old necklace of mine."

"What is that pendant supposed to be?"

"It's the half moon," Frodo replied, tucking the necklace back into his shirt.

Prima clicked her tongue again. To her eyes, it just looked like an old piece of rock. "Well, in any case, it will not go well with the attire I am making you, so you better take that off on the day of the party."

"Yes, yes. See you tomorrow, Prima."

"Be on time," Prima reminded him good-naturedly and then let him out.

Frodo left her smial and went for a walk by the lake instead of going home. After all, Bag End was buzzing with activity these days, with guests coming and going, discussing every detail of the party with Bilbo. The Sackville-Bagginses in particular were especially active lately, with Lobelia coming over to see Bilbo every other day under the pretext of talking about the party, when in reality she just wanted to take a look inside Bag End to gauge anything else she could steal.

Bilbo was tired of her and kept complaining she was doing all this because she could not suffer to see him live this old. Frodo chuckled at the thought of that. Bilbo might be 111 years old, but he looked like he was 70. At this rate, Lobelia's plan of outliving him in order to finally get her hands on Bag End was looking less and less likely to succeed.

Her son Lotho was now chief of the pipe-weed plantations in the Southfarthing, and always tried to snatch customers away from Marigold. Frodo knew he was doing shady dealings with people from outside the Shire, and hoped ardently that his actions would backfire on him one day.

As he walked by the always blue waters of the Bywater Pool, he suddenly spotted Marigold sprinting towards him from the fields, her straight blonde hair flying behind her.

He smiled in greeting as she paused beside him, panting for breath with flushed cheeks.

"Frodo! I was looking for you!" she finally said when she managed to catch her breath. "Come! I want you to show you something!"

She seized his hand and pulled him along with her; Frodo, amused, just followed her.

She led him to the stables of her new farm. As soon as they entered, the smell of hay and horse invaded their noses. Marigold pushed him towards the last stand, which pertained to Almond, the pregnant mare.

When Frodo peered inside, he saw a filly standing there on trembling legs, leaning against Almond's flank. The mare flared her nostrils softly upon seeing them arrive.

"She finally gave birth!" Frodo exclaimed delightfully.

Marigold's eyes were shining tenderly. "Isn't it adorable?" She extended her hand on which rested an apple, and the mare approached her head to eat it.

Marigold caressed her neck and mane, and planted a kiss on the mare's forehead. "Good job, Almond!"

"This calls for a celebration," Frodo laughed, "how about a night at the Green Dragon with Merry and Sam?"

Marigold nodded enthusiastically, "I will also ask Rosie to give us a few pints on the house. I'm sure she won't mind!"

Rosie had just become the regular waitress at the Green Dragon and was the reason behind the sudden increase in customers (and suitors) at the inn, much to Sam's dismay and annoyance.

Marigold then declared she had to change the hay in Almond's stand, so Frodo went outside to wait till she finished.

It had rained the night before, and the grass was still slightly damp from it. Sitting against the wall of the stable, Frodo looked out into the green fields extending as far as the eye could see. Looking at the scenery like this always conferred a sense of calm upon him.

He looked to his right and saw two hobbit kids playing under a low tree. They were bickering back and forth the way kids sometimes did. A small smile floated on Frodo's lips as he looked at them interact. Then, one of the boys pointed upwards and the other boy followed his finger, raising his head to look up into the foliage of the tree. At that moment, the boy who pointed quickly kicked the trunk with one foot, and all the rainwater collected among the dense leaves poured down onto the other boy's face.

The boy who got tricked started screaming indignantly as he chased after the other.

Frodo chuckled as he suddenly remembered how he always used to fall for that same trick when he was a kid.

Except that it had been snow instead of rainwater.

His chuckle slowly receded into a smile, and then his smile slowly receded into a neutral expression. His blue eyes became distant for a second, but quickly regained their alertness when Marigold called out his name.

"I'm done. Let's go now," she said with a bright smile.

Frodo stood up and followed her.

However, perhaps because of that scene he witnessed, that night Frodo had a dream. In his dream, he was a kid again, and he was playing in the snow, trying to make snowballs with his hands. However, the snow kept sticking to his gloves, much like flour. It soon became annoying, so he shook his hands violently to get rid of it, and then rubbed them against each other, but nothing worked.

Frustrated, he stood up and went to wipe them against the wall of a nearby hut.

"Look up Frodo, look up."

Frodo turned around and there was someone there standing in front of him. He knew it was a young lass, but her face was just a blur of pastel colors. She had her hands behind her back as she shuffled from one foot to the other playfully.

"Look up!" she said again in that nondescript voice of a little girl.

Frodo huffed in his dream. "I will not fall for it."

At this, she stopped shuffling and then started walking away. Frodo knew she was disappointed, but he couldn't help it; he just didn't want to get snow on his face. However, he followed her nonetheless as she skidded away in the snow, leaving footprints behind her at every jump. Her blonde hair swung this way and that as she stepped over the white space faster and faster. Frodo was now running to keep up, but she kept moving further and further away in spite of his efforts.

"Wait!" he called out.

But she didn't listen. Why did she never listen?

"Wait for me!" he called out again.

She turned around a little and laughed merrily, her laughter trailing back to him, enveloping the space all around him, clear as bell chimes.

Frodo reached out a hand towards her, but his legs had become heavy. Looking down, he saw with disarray that he was now running through a bog. "Wait…"

He wanted to call out her name, but what was it again?

And then she disappeared from sight, and the echoes of her laughter left along with her. He felt himself slowly sinking into the marshes. Why was she leaving when he was stuck here? He struggled, but his legs were deeply buried in the mud. He wanted get away from here, _needed_ to get away.

"Help me..."

He wanted to call out to her so bad, but what was her name?

Frodo sat up in his bed, his chest heaving and a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. For a moment, he just stayed in his position, looking at the ball of blankets on his lap.

He had forgotten to pull his curtains closed before going to bed that night, and presently his entire room was bathed in moonlight. Slowly, he turned his head to stare past the window at the full moon hanging there in the dark sky. He blinked as his dream slowly came back to him. His hand crept up his chest to touch the pendant around his neck.

It had been a long time since he had dreamed of her.

The next day, Marigold stepped out of Prima's smial with a radiant smile on her face and her newly made dress carefully wrapped inside a plastic bag hanging on her arm.

She saw Frodo waiting for her under the shade of a tree, smoking his pipe, and waved giddily. Frodo sucked in the last puff of smoke before tucking the now empty pipe into his pocket.

"You look happy," he winked.

She clung to his arm as they walked away. "The dress is so pretty! I love it! Mrs. Prima has done a wonderful job, as usual. Oh wait, let's take this road. I want to go the marketplace. Papa wants some fresh tomatoes."

Frodo obliged easily and let her drag him on the way towards the center of Hobbiton. Marigold was telling Frodo of her day when she noticed a couple of hobbit lasses on the side of the road looking at them pass by with a glint of admiration in their eyes. Smiling, she clung onto Frodo's arm tighter and glanced at the hobbit girls triumphantly. She knew how popular Frodo had become over the years as he had gradually grown up into a handsome young hobbit; she felt especially lucky to have him when she saw the looks the other girls kept throwing him. She was aware of the fact that she was pretty as well, with her straight blonde hair and soft hazel eyes. They must have made a quite stunning couple, she thought.

She eyed him and noticed that he was unaware of the looks he kept getting. She sighed internally; he could be clueless like that more often than not. He was always so dreamy and slow to realize things that were obvious to others. That was part of his charm, she had to admit, but it also frustrated her sometimes. She had been waiting for him to propose to her for quite a while now, but it still hadn't happened. She knew they were still young, but they had been dating for three years already, so she thought it was due time for them to create a home of their own. She knew his dream was to explore the outside world, but that gave her even more reason to want to settle down with him first. For some reason, she always had the feeling that if he ever decided to go off, he would grow too attached to the outside world and would never be satisfied with the Shire again.

Just like Bilbo.

Marigold loved the old hobbit dearly, odd antics and all, but she knew that after his adventure, he wasn't the same as other hobbits anymore. Seeing the outside world had changed him. Sometimes, she even saw that distant look in his eyes, as though he was thinking of something or someplace far away.

Her thoughts scattered when sounds characteristic to the marketplace reached her ears. She pulled Frodo by the arm as they headed towards the stand of tomatoes. Frodo stood back in the crowd, holding her dress, as she stepped forward to look at the merchandise while exchanging gossip with the old lady behind the stand.

The wind blew softly across Frodo's face as he waited; he lifted his head and lost himself in contemplation of the blue skies for a moment.

His reverie was broken when someone bumped into him, making him stagger. He looked down and saw a little hobbit girl rushing past him. The girl paused a few feet away and turned slightly.

"Sorry," she mumbled as one grey eye peered up at him.

And then she was gone in a flurry of wild blonde curls, disappearing into the crowd. Frodo's feet pushed him off the ground before he even had time to think of what he was doing. He chased after the little girl, pushing past the other hobbits crowded in the marketplace.

Looking around in a frenzy, he finally spotted her blonde hair between two other adults. In two big strides, he was behind her. He seized her shoulder and twirled her around as he knelt down to face her.

The little girl gasped a little, eyes wide as she peered into his frantic face.

Her eyes were not grey; they were pale green. He must have seen wrong.

"I'm really sorry for bumping into you, sir!" she cried out in anguish, eyeing the two adults by her side, who must have been her parents.

Slowly, Frodo pushed back onto his feet. The father put a hand on his daughter's hair and stared at Frodo questioningly. Frodo could only smile apologetically at the little girl. "It's all right. I'm really sorry for startling you. It's nothing, don't worry about it."

However, the little girl looked unconvinced as she seized her mom's skirt and stared at him as though he was mad.

And she was probably right; he was probably indeed mad. He didn't even know why he had done that. He stepped back and retreated quickly.

What was he thinking? He was supposed to have stopped looking for her years ago. He should have stopped hoping he would see her one day and should have stopped chasing after every shimmer of golden hair he saw around him. It had been years since he hadn't said her name out loud nor brought her up in conversation, for none of his friends were willing to talk about her, as though mentioning her name would bring them bad luck. So he had tried to keep the memories of her to himself; but the merciless passage of time had eroded them, and now all that he had left were threads and crumbles of what was once vivid and clear. Sometimes he even wondered if her existence had been real, and not just the creation of the mind of a young hobbit who had too vivid an imagination.

However, even if everything about her had been real, almost twenty years had passed and he didn't even remember what she looked like anymore. But one thing was for certain: she surely would no longer have the appearance of a little girl. She was merely two years younger than him, so she would be 31 now, almost an adult hobbit.

There was no way he could picture what that grown up version of her looked like when he couldn't even see her child face inside his mind anymore. All he remembered were her penetrating grey eyes and her blonde curly hair, always so wild. This realization gave him a second of despair, but then it was gone, repressed back into the deepest corner of his mind.

His steps brought him back to the tomato stand, and he saw Marigold looking around for him.

He called out her name, and she turned around and beamed.

He helped her carry her things till the Gamgee residence. Before parting ways, she stood up on her tip toes and planted a kiss on his lips. Surprised, Frodo just stared back. Marigold giggled: "Why do you still look so stunned after all this time?"

Frodo scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks turning pink. Marigold laughed. "Get going now. I will see you tonight at the Green Dragon."

That night, Frodo, Marigold, Sam and Merry sat together at the Green Dragon, each with a mug of ale in front of them; all the boys were also holding a pipe in their hands. Rosie was working behind the bar, flashing them bright smiles from time to time.

Marigold stood up and raised her mug. "Here, to the safe delivery of the new frilly by Almond!"

"Cheers!" The other three chanted merrily.

They bumped their mugs against each other's and then the boys emptied theirs in one drink while Marigold sipped at hers more slowly.

The old Gaffer, Sandyman and some other hobbits came to their table with their ale. "How is it going, youngsters?" the old Gaffer asked as means of greeting.

Sam shuffled to make some space and they all sat down. Marigold told them of Almond and the new frilly with stars in her eyes.

"Good for ya, lass. Good for ya," Sandyman said, nodding.

As the years had passed, the hatred that Frodo and Sandyman bore towards each other had eased out into a pact of indifference. Now, they could even converse over small matters without feeling the urge to jump at each other's throats. It probably had much to do with Sandyman cutting his ties of friendship with the Sackville-Bagginses after a fight over land. Sandyman's son, Ted, had also matured from his bullying ways and had now become Shirriff.

The old Gaffer took a puff off his pipe and eyed Marigold proudly. "Samwise, you should be more like your sister. You have too little ambition. You could do great things if you set your mind to it, great things indeed."

Sam suddenly eyed a fissure in the wood of the table as though it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Frodo laughed and clasped a hand on his shoulder. "He is the brightest gardener that I know. For me, that is enough accomplishment for one lifetime."

Sam looked up at him gratefully.

The old Gaffer groaned. "You should not be so lenient towards him or that boy is never going to push himself. You are too good to my son, Mr. Frodo. Mr. Bilbo has indeed raised you well. Although, he seems to be cracking more than usual these days."

Frodo's face darkened a little at that. His uncle had always been odd, but lately he had been locking himself more and more often in his studio as he poured over old maps when he thought Frodo wasn't looking. Frodo knew he was in a frenzy to finish compiling his adventures into the red covered book, but lately he seemed distant even when he wasn't writing.

"I heard Bilbo's birthday party will be of particular magnificence," Merry announced, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

The old Gaffer snorted. "Indeed. He's got half of the Shire invited, and the other half will turn up anyway. Bilbo's always craved for attention too much, if you ask my opinion."

Frodo smiled. "And knowing him, he's probably got something feisty prepared. A surprise. I have asked him for details, but he would not tell even me."

At that moment, Rosie brought them more beers, and Sam hurried to stand up and help her out.

"Thank you, Sam," Rosie said with a wink.

Sam's blush reached the point of his ears, and the old Gaffer shook his head hopelessly upon seeing his son lose his countenance for so little.

"Join us when you are free, Rosie," Marigold proposed.

"You should be braver when it comes to girls, lad," the old Gaffer admonished loudly after Rosie left, and Sam looked down, completely embarrassed.

The whole table laughed.

"And while we are being on that subject matter, when are you two getting married?" The old Gaffer asked as he pointed between Frodo and Marigold with his pipe.

At this, everyone fell silent and turned to look at the two people concerned. Marigold blushed, but nonetheless raised an expectant face towards Frodo.

Frodo looked around in disarray. "Well… I have not really thought about it."

"You can think about it now, then." Gaffer persisted, merciless.

Frodo threw fleeting glances towards Marigold, hoping she'd say something to get him out of this uncomfortable situation, but she did nothing of the sort. "I don't think… Marigold and I… I mean, I don't think marriage is for now," he finally stuttered.

Gaffer observed Frodo from behind the cloud of smoke in front of his face. "You are not planning to make my daughter wait for too long, are you?"

Finally, Marigold grabbed her father's arm. "That's enough, Papa. You are making it difficult for him."

The old Gaffer merely snorted. "Boys, if you don't make it difficult for them, nothing will ever happen. Before you know it, he will be celebrating his 111th birthday while still being a bachelor, just like old Mr. Bilbo."

"That will not happen," Frodo reassured him. "We are still young, and we still have plenty of time. There is no need to rush. If it were up to me, I would not yet think of marriage for another couple of years at the least. That is all right with you, Marigold, isn't it?"

Marigold flashed him a forced smile.

They continued chatting until the early hours of the morning. When they looked around them once more, the inn was almost empty. The old Gaffer decided to call it a night as he stood up with the help of Sam and Marigold. "Thank you, kids. That is nice of you."

Sandyman also parted ways with them and left, swiftly disappearing into the night.

Merry told Frodo he'd see him at the birthday party and also made for home. Sam turned back to look at Rosie still wiping some of the mugs clean; he was clearly torn between helping his father walk back home and staying behind with Rosie. Marigold, holding Gaffer's other arm, also turned back, but to look at Frodo.

"Are you coming?" she asked.

Frodo was about to follow her when Rosie called out: "Frodo! Come help me out for a second."

Frodo threw an uncertain glance towards Marigold, but she just signalled to him to do as Rosie asked. "Go help her out, Frodo. I will see you tomorrow!"

Sam frowned, wondering why Rosie hadn't asked him to help her instead. But at least it was Frodo and not one of her suitors. Sighing in disarray, he opened the door and stepped outside with his father and his sister.

When the door closed behind them, Frodo shuffled behind the bar and leaned in to look for another rag he could use to help wipe the glasses, but Rosie put her hand on his and stopped his gesture.

"I don't need your help," she said placidly as she resumed her work. "It was merely an excuse."

Frodo just stood there, baffled, and stuck his hands inside his pockets aimlessly.

"I overheard your conversation earlier, you know?" Rosie was saying. "About you not wanting to get married just now."

Frodo sighed. "Rosie, I really don't want to explain myself again to you. I know you are friends with Marigold, but you don't need to worry. I will ask for her hand in the future, but right now is not the right time…"

"Will you really?"

"What?"

Rosie put down her glass and turned towards him, her hazel eyes serious. "Will you really ask for Marigold's hand in the future? And even if you do, why would you do it? Will it be out of love or will it be just going with the flow?"

Frodo was stunned into silence. Did he love Marigold? He must. He had been dating her all this time after all.

"Of course I love her!" he exclaimed more defensively than he intended.

Rosie eyed him intently for awhile. "Then what are you waiting for? Why not get married now? What is difference between now and in a couple of years?"

Frodo blinked. He was about to tell her about his dream of exploring the outside world when her next words cut him short:

"Are you still waiting?" the words had been whispered. Rosie wasn't staring at him anymore, but was now lost in contemplation of the clean glasses sitting upon the bar.

His heart started beating faster. "What are you talking about?" he murmured.

"I know of your dream of getting out of the Shire one day," Rosie pursued, "but that is just an excuse, isn't it? In fact, you don't want to leave at all."

Frodo opened his mouth in protest.

Rosie threw her rag down on the table. "No, Frodo, don't say a word. After all these years that we have been friends, don't even think of fooling me. You don't want to leave the Shire, because you are still waiting. Still waiting for her to return."

Slowly, Frodo uncrossed his arms. The silence stretched between them until it became unbearable.

Finally, he marched away from the bar and sank down on a chair, touching two fingers to his forehead, feeling weary all of a sudden.

"What are you talking about?" he asked tiredly. "She's never coming back. I know it in my heart of hearts."

"And yet, you can't help but hope," she said what he could not.

Frodo looked up at her. She was smiling sadly. "I know, Frodo. I feel the same way. It's been years, but somehow, I can't forget about her. She was my good friend, but I didn't even get to say goodbye. I was so shocked when I saw… when I saw what she turned into. It still haunts me in my dreams sometimes. I know nobody wants to talk about her anymore because they want to forget someone like her ever lived here, in the Shire. And now, I think most of them have succeeded in banishing her from their memories. They don't recall anything about her anymore. But I do. I don't want to forget. And I know you don't want to either."

Frodo didn't answer, couldn't answer.

"You are still waiting for her, Frodo. Will you ever stop waiting?"

Frodo took in a deep breath as he clutched the half moon necklace out of habit. "Stop it, Rosie. Don't say anymore."

Rosie put a hand on his shoulder. "I know you don't want to hear this. I know how hard it's been for you after she left, and how hard you tried to shut away your feelings and hopes in order to become the person you are today. But Frodo… locking those feelings away doesn't mean that they are gone. And as long as they exist, you won't ever stop waiting. You need to deal with this, for your sake, and for Marigold's sake. She's my friend and I don't want to see her hurt needlessly."

"What are you saying then?" he whispered.

"I'm saying you either eradicate all thoughts of her completely and forget even her name, or…", she looked determinedly into his troubled eyes, "or… you go and find her."

Frodo stood up. "That is absurd! It has been nineteen years! I don't have the slightest clue where she is. I don't even know if she is still alive! And even if she is, she might not even remember me anymore…"

His voice drifted off.

Rosie huffed softly. "Do you have so little faith in her?"

She pointed to the pendant around his neck. "She gave you this, didn't she? Just as you have been holding yours dearly all those years, why is it impossible to fathom that she has done the same?"

Frodo clutched his pendant, a vortex of emotions gaining him over, but hope was the predominant one. Rosie was right; nothing would come from waiting. It was true that if he wanted to see her again, the best bet would be to actively take action.

Rosie strode around the bar to where he sat. "Frodo, if you do decide to search for her, just keep in mind that what you end up finding might not be what you were looking for. After all, nineteen years did pass. No one can predict how things stand at this point."

He gave her an uncertain smile. A part of him knew how ludicrous such a plan sounded, but another part, a bigger part, was asking him why he had wasted so much time already.

"Rosie, I must thank you," he told her sincerely.

Rosie nodded softly. "Thank me later."

* * *

Frodo's budding plans to leave the Shire shattered when his uncle disappeared after his speech during his (until then) grandiose birthday party.

Everyone was baffled to say the least, and Frodo more than the others. He had a feeling Bilbo had been thinking of leaving for a while, as he kept reminiscing about the old days when he travelled through Rivendell, the Misty Mountains and Mirkwood forest, but he never thought his uncle would carry through with those plans. And how exactly did he manage to vanish like that in mid-air? The only explanation was that Gandalf was in on this as well.

As he ran back to Bag-End from the Party Tree, his mind was in a panic as he wished with all his heart he'd make it in time.

He pushed open the round door to Bag End, calling out his uncle's name, but the first thing that caught his eye was Bilbo's golden ring shimmering at him from the floor. Slowly, he bent over and picked it up. It was cold in his hand, and somehow a feeling of disgust washed over him for a second.

But then, the smell of pipe weed drifted to his nose, and he hurried to the salon where he saw Gandalf smoking heavily in front of the fireplace, deep in thought.

There was no sight of Bilbo anywhere; Frodo's heart sank at that.

Slowly, he approached the magician's wide back and stared at his grey robes. "He's gone, hasn't he? He talked so long about leaving, but I never thought he'd really do it."

Gandalf didn't respond right away, but simply puffed on his pipe.

"He's gone to stay with the Elves," he finally said. "You are now one of the heirs to Bag End and to all of its possessions."

Gandalf turned and his eyes immediately settled on the ring in Frodo's hand. Groaning, he got up to pick up an envelope from the shelf opposite the fireplace. However, Frodo was frowning in consternation. "One of the heirs? Don't tell me Bilbo has left something for the Sackville-Bagginses after all!"

Gandalf barked a dark laugh. "Your uncle would rather die than to leave them a single clod."

"Who else then?"

Gandalf stared at him meaningfully, and gradually Frodo's features were pulled back by awe. "Don't tell me…"

"Yes, that is right. The hobbit lass who used to live with you is the other heir."

Frodo stopped breathing. "She is…!"

He knew his uncle had been shattered with guilt by her being taken away at that time. Making her his heir must have been Bilbo's way of seeking forgiveness and to amend things, if only a little.

Gandalf nodded and handed him the envelope. Frodo let the ring slip inside distractedly. His mind was racing. Bilbo's disappearance… his plans to go look for her…

"The ring is now yours. Keep it safe," Gandalf's eyes were so serious that it scared him for a second.

Frodo blinked and took the now sealed envelope. He didn't understand why Gandalf was making such a big deal about the ring; to him, it was just another trinket that would go into the coffin and be forgotten. He knew his uncle had loved the ring dearly, but it meant nothing to him.

Gandalf was now heading for the door, back bent to avoid knocking his head on the ceiling. Frodo ran after him. "Wait, Gandalf! Where are you going?"

"I have things to attend to."

Gandalf turned around and looked at him through wild eyes that sent a shiver down his spine. "Keep it secret. Keep it safe."

Frodo knew he was alluding to the ring and nodded impatiently. "But Gandalf…"

Gandalf was now out of the door. Frodo bolted after him and caught him by the pan of his grey robe.

"Just answer one question, Gandalf!" Frodo demanded intently.

The Wizard turned around at the tone of his voice; the hobbit's eyes were shining with resolve. "You know where she is, don't you?"

Gandalf paused. "Frodo…" he sighed.

Frodo had stopped asking that question years ago. The first few times he did, Gandalf always told him the knowledge was beyond him and that he should simply forget about her. Frodo had even cried and begged, but Gandalf had remained stoic and cold. So the young hobbit had finally given up on knowing the answer from him.

However, now things were different. Now Frodo was determined to not let go of Gandalf until he received a satisfactory answer.

The Wizard knelt down in front of him to be at his level. "Frodo, I cannot tell you, because I do not know."

Frodo simply stared at him. "Gandalf, I love you dearly, but don't you dare lie to me. Not anymore. You were the one who took her away. You must know!"

The Wizard's old face was sympathetic. "You know of her nature. She is not one to stay in one place in a sedentary manner. I do know of the place where I have left her at first, all those long years ago, but I am fairly certain she is long gone from there."

Gandalf gently took Frodo's hand and loosened his grip on his robe.

"I will be back as soon as I can. I might have important matters to discuss with you."

Frodo could only watch as his grey shape disappeared into the night. Disappointment swelled up in his chest, but then was replaced by resolve. This time, he would not be deterred from his plans so easily. Even if Gandalf himself did not know of her whereabouts, he was as intent as ever to find her.

_One month later_

Marigold was eyeing Frodo as she stood beside Rosie who was serving ale into four giant mugs. Merry was singing a song, and Frodo was happily clapping along. He seemed like his normal self, except that she had noticed he had become more distant, especially when he was with her.

She was deeply troubled by this, and didn't know whether it was because her father had blurted out the marriage talk all of a sudden the other day.

When Merry was done singing, Frodo came over to the bar and picked up the four full mugs expertly, smiling at both girls. Then, he went to bring the ale to the table where the old Gaffer, Sandyman, Noakes and Sam were sitting. Slipping the mugs over the table to them, he then brought another chair and sat at the edge of the table.

"Have you heard the latest news?" Gaffer was saying. "There's been some strange folk crossing the Shire lately. Dwarves, but also others of a less savoury nature."

Sandyman shuddered. "My son has informed me of this."

"War is brewing," Noakes spoke up ominously. "The mountains are fair teeming with Goblins."

Sandyman puffed at that though. "Oh please! Let us not get carried away. Goblins? Children's stories that's all that is. Don't start sounding like the old Bilbo Baggins."

Ever since Bilbo's grand party, and his grand disappearance, a joke that most hobbits (even the Gaffer) had agreed to have been of particularly bad taste, he was now the talk of the neighborhood at every inn, and his name was ceaselessly brought up in conversation for reference of what any decent hobbit should not do.

Gaffer laughed. "Right. Cracked he was."

"And proud of it, he was," Frodo added, and then raised his mug. "Cheers!"

Sandyman took a gulp of his ale and sighed contently. "Anyway, it's none of our concern what goes beyond our borders."

The others all agreed, but it got Frodo thinking. In actuality, he was interested in hearing more about those rumors of war brewing and of strange people crossing the Shire. Maybe if one day he came across them, he could ask them for some news of the outside world.

Frodo had actually planned to leave the Shire within the month, but Bilbo's disappearance had delayed his plans. Gandalf's words about not knowing Allie's whereabouts also dampened his optimism. However, he didn't allow himself be discouraged. He _was_ going to do this. He had already packed away a map of the Shire along with food provisions in a big travel bag. Everything was ready, really. All he had left to do was to tell his friends.

He glanced over the bar and saw Marigold smiling at him. He glanced away. She would understand, wouldn't she? It pained him to tell her the truth, so maybe he should just inform her that he would be off exploring the outside world like he had always dreamt to do.

Later that night, Frodo and Sam left the Green Dragon together. They were both slightly tipsy and grinning like mad.

Sam's grin faded, however, when he saw one hobbit flirting with Rosie by the door. He muttered darkly under his breath and looked daggers his way. Frodo laughed and clasped his shoulder. "Don't worry Sam. Rosie knows an idiot when she sees one." His tone softened. "I know from experience."

Sam smiled uncertainly. "Does she really? I hope so."

"She also hates waiting," Frodo told Sam as he cast his gardener a meaningful glance.

Sam was appalled at this and glanced back nervously.

"I know you like her, Sam. It is pretty obvious if you do allow me to say so. So why not tell her?"

Sam's cheeks flared up as he stared at the ground. "Next time," he murmured in an undertone. "I will tell her next time, for sure."

_Next time. Tell me next time, when we meet again._

Frodo stopped walking abruptly. Allie's last words to him had echoed clearly in his mind as though her voice was reaching him from twenty years in the past. He remembered how sad and yet determined she had sounded that day. She had always been like that… a mixture of opposite things: strength and vulnerability; fear and courage.

"Mr. Frodo, are you all right?"

They were in front in Bag End and Frodo wasn't making a move to go back into the house. Snapping out of it, he smiled at Sam and bid him good night. Sam then staggered away.

"Frodo?"

Frodo turned around at the sound of Marigold's voice.

"Marigold! What are doing here? It's late."

Her face was hidden in shadows as he approached her. She came close to him and said softly: "I was waiting for you."

"Is anything the matter?"

"I… I just want to know if everything is okay."

"Yes. Yes, of course."

Marigold seized his arm. "But Frodo, I feel as though something is on your mind these days."

Frodo remained silent. He couldn't bring himself to say that he was leaving. "Bilbo's disappeared. I guess I'm still a bit stunned by the suddenness of it."

Marigold's grip relaxed on his arm. "Oh, is that why you were troubled? – she laughed a little, relieved – that I can understand. Don't worry. I'm sure he will be safe."

Frodo nodded. "I hope so. Good night, Marigold."

Her features were soft in the dark. "Good night."

Frodo pushed the gate open, creating a little squeaking sound that resonated loudly in the still night.

"Frodo?"

"Yes?"

She reached over the gate and put her hand on his. "Do you love me?"

Frodo stared at her for a second from across the gate. Then, he put one hand on her shoulder and leaned in to plant a kiss on her forehead. His lips were soft on her skin, and she should have been glad, but there was something sad about his act, something final. After that, he turned around and climbed up the steps to his front door. Marigold watched his dark shape go until he disappeared inside his smial; tears filled her eyes, but she did not know why.

Or perhaps she did.

She had always known, ever since she was a little girl, that the one in Frodo's heart was not her. She still remembered that other hobbit girl, always so fearless, with shiny grey eyes and wild blonde curls. For a second, misery overtook her as she felt as though she could not compete, even after that other girl had disappeared from their lives for such a long time now. But then hope returned as Marigold also remembered the grotesque transformation, the beast with bloody fur that the girl had turned into.

Her heart settled and she took in a deep breath.

"There is no future there," she told herself calmly. "And besides, she is gone to never return. Courage, Marigold. You shall not lose him."

* * *

AN: There. Tell me what you think :)

**dontlikeloggingin:** wow! Thanks for the compliment! Yes, I got a little teary too as I was writing their separation scene. :'( I felt like Allie, I didn't want to leave. But anyway, here was the next chapter. We are finally getting started with the events in the book. Thank you for your review, it means a lot to me that you're reading this! And I hope to hear from you again :D

**Mallory:** Hiiii :) Man, your reviews always make me so happy haha. Yes, Frodo and Allie's separation scene was indeed pretty sad. As it should be, since the time jump this time around is almost 20 years. I tried to make this as realistic as possible, based on personal experience. As a kid, I used to know this one guy from my elementary school days. I think I liked him, although back then of course I didn't know I did. And now I'm trying to picture his face and I just can't. I just know he had brown hair. So I mean, time is one's brain's worst enemy. I had so much fun writing the whole wolf attack/ kidnap thing. I think I enjoy writing action sequences the best (after the romantic ones) haha. So I don't know, you tell me how you like the grown up version of Frodo so far ;) As for Allie's father (lmaoo omg Gollum's sidekick, that's actually an interesting idea), but so far I can't really tell you because I don't know. I have something planned with him but I will have to see if it fits the rest. So anyway, once again thank you so much for reading and reviewing! You just made my day :D Take care!


	31. Strider

**Strider**

Frodo entered his house and leaned against the door. He should have told Marigold clearly about his plans, but when she had asked him whether he loved her with such hope shining in her eyes, he hadn't had the heart to tell her anything. He did love her dearly and cared for her, but it was a different kind of love. Even though it had been twenty years, there was still yearning and pain in his chest whenever he thought of Allie. It was incomprehensible to him; he was so young when he had realized he liked her. She could have been just a crush or a young love that should have been easily forgotten, but somehow, even when she was long gone, she kept lingering within him. Simply because of that, he felt that he had to find her. If he saw her again, perhaps things would become clearer.

Firming his resolve, he pushed away from the door and walked into the kitchen in the dark. A gust of wind blew over his face and he froze, looking around, feeling as though he was being watched.

And then he saw it; a pair of shining eyes from the depths of the tunnel.

His heart lurched to his throat in fear, followed by a sudden wave of dazzling recognition.

The eyes disappeared and a dark shape swiftly sprinted away. Frodo launched after it with a pounding heart.

_Please… please… don't run away_, his mind screamed.

He ran to the kitchen and looked around wildly, but the room seemed empty. He leaned out of the open window and scanned the still night. The dark shape was gone.

Frodo's heart was drumming. Could it be…?

Something grabbed his shoulder and he gasped as he was being tossed around. Gandalf's wild face then entered his field of vision at an inch from his, and he had to try hard not to scream out loud.

"G-Gandalf! It's only you! You startled me."

"Is it safe? Is it hidden?" The Wizard asked urgently, his grey hair falling a little over his wrinkled face.

"What is?" Frodo frowned.

"For the love of Valars, Bilbo's Ring!" Gandalf's patience was running thin.

Frodo fumbled to light up a candle and then used it to light his way as he tried hard to remember where he had put the envelope containing the ring. Finally, he found it in an old coffin in the storage room. Gandalf snatched the envelope out of his hands and threw it inside the fireplace.

Frodo could only stare as the paper envelope burned and the ring was now visible lying amidst the flames. After a while, Gandalf used the thongs to get it out of the fire.

"Take it. It's quite cool."

Frodo hesitated for a second, and then opened up his palm to receive the ring. Gandalf was right; it was barely warm. A few seconds later, under his flabbergasted eyes, a glowing string of letters started appearing around and inside the ring. It looked like some sort of Elvish that he couldn't read.

Gandalf's face turned so white that Frodo feared for him for a second, but then it passed and the Wizard regained his composure.

"What is this?" Frodo whispered in awe. "I never knew there were inscriptions on my uncle's ring."

"Inscriptions that only the fire can reveal," Gandalf muttered darkly, almost as though talking to himself. "In common tongue, those words mean: one Ring to rule them all, one Ring to find them, one Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them."

As Gandalf spoke, the room seemed to turn darker and colder; the flame of the candle flickered. Frodo felt goosebumps invade his arms and the hair at the back of his head stood up on edge. But then the shadow passed, and the fire cracked merrily once more inside the hearth.

Gandalf sighed wearily and wiped at his face. Slowly, he trudged to the kitchen and Frodo followed him, speechless.

"Sit," Gandalf commended, "for I have a long story to tell you."

Frodo put the Ring down on the table between them and then started boiling some water to make tea. And for the next hour or so, Gandalf told him the scariest and most unfathomable story he'd ever heard in his life.

He learned that Bilbo's Ring originally was made by the dark Lord Sauron, whose towers and dungeons lay in the dead and barren lands of Mordor. Centuries ago, there was a great war between his army and those of Men and Elves. Isildur, the son of the king of Gondor at that time, managed to cut the Ring off Sauron's hand, thus defeating him. However, instead of destroying the Ring in the mountain of fire, he chose to keep it for himself and was later killed by an enemy raid. The Ring fell into the river and for next thousands of years it was lost and forgotten, turning into a simple myth.

However, the day came when it ensnared a new bearer. The Ring was picked up by a creature quite like a hobbit whose name was Deagol. His cousin Smeagol, who was with him at the time, then strangled Deagol to seize the Ring. For the next four hundred years, the Ring corrupted him and turned him into the vile creature now known as Gollum. It was then that Bilbo found the Ring in Gollum's cave deep inside the Misty Mountains and carried it back with him to the Shire.

"For sixty years, the Ring was in Bilbo's company, prolonging his life and delaying old age. But no longer, Frodo. Evil is stirring once more in Mordor. Sauron's body might have been destroyed, but his spirit endured. His life force is bound to the Ring, and the Ring survived."

Gandalf let out a heavy cloud of smoke from his mouth and Frodo eyed the Ring sitting there on the table between them as his fingers nervously played with a pan of his shirt.

"Well, what now?" he finally whispered in a low voice.

Gandalf put down his pipe. "Sauron needs only this Ring to cover all the lands of a second darkness. He is seeking it… seeking it with all his might. But Frodo, he must never find it."

Frodo clenched his jaw. "All right… in that case… let's hide it and never speak of it again!"

"Gollum was captured," Gandalf said as he stood up, his grey robes floating around him, "in the dungeons of Barad-Dur, they tortured him. Amidst the endless screams and inane babble they discerned two words." The Wizard's blue eye settled on his small frame. "Shire, and… Baggins."

Frodo felt his blood turn to ice. "But that… that's…"

He suddenly looked around him nervously; his house no longer felt safe. He eyed the Ring again, sitting there on the table, and suddenly felt like taking it and tossing it out of the window. His mind was reeling, and he wondered why Bilbo had ever brought back such a dangerous thing. It was too big for him; if all those Orcs and enemies started coming to the Shire, the quiet peace of this land would be gone.

He held up the Ring to Gandalf and begged for the Wizard to take it. Gandalf leaped back as though Frodo had just drawn a sword.

"No, Frodo!"

"You must take it! I'm giving it to you!"

"Don't! Tempt me Frodo!" Gandalf hollered. His powerful voice made the hobbit recoil. "Understand this. I would use this Ring from a desire to do good, but through me, it could wield a power too great and terrible to imagine. The Ring's power to corrupt increases with the bearer's power. I cannot take it."

Frodo clenched the Ring tight in his hand. "What… what do you want me to do with it then? If the enemy knows of the Shire, then it cannot stay here!"

Gandalf's face filled with sad resolution. "No, it cannot. You must leave this place at once. Make for the village of Bree. I cannot travel with you, as I have other urgent business to attend to. However, I will meet with you at the inn of the Prancing Pony."

Frodo twirled the Ring in his fingers. Everything was happening too fast. Leave? His eyes fell on the travel bag that he had already readied lying against the wall.

Slowly, calmness seized him. This would indeed be a perfect opportunity to leave.

Maybe the wheels of fate that he tried to believe in for all these years were finally turning.

* * *

A few days later found Frodo sitting on the hollow part of a fallen tree with his travel bag leaning against the trunk. He was leisurely taking puffs of Toby's leaf off his pipe as he watched evening fall. He could hardly believe he was running away from the enemy, for the Shire was as peaceful as ever, and this just felt like another one the expeditions he used to set out on with Bilbo when he was younger.

The smell of fried meat reached his nose, and he turned to see Sam grilling sausages over a fire as he fanned away the smoke.

Sam had ended up accompanying him on this crazy entreprise.

He smiled as he recalled how Gandalf had found him spying on them from under the window that night. Frodo thought Sam had long gone home that evening.

"What were you doing that night?"

"Pardon me?" Sam said as he handed Frodo his portion of sausages.

"That night, why were you eavesdropping?"

At this, Sam fell silent for awhile. "There was…" he hesitated as though trying to recall something. "There was a dog outside my fence. It kept barking and the old Gaffer told me to go take a look. So I did, but the dog ran away when it saw me. Only a few seconds later, it was back and barking again. It seemed to want me to follow it, and so I did. It led me close to Bag End, Mr. Frodo. I saw the light on in the kitchen and I heard voices drifting out. The dog had disappeared by then, so I went to your window instead to see what was going on."

Frodo slowly put down the bite of sausage he was about to take. "That dog, what did it look like?"

Sam scratched his chin. "It was dark, so I couldn't really see. But it was really big; bigger than those of farmer Maggot, mind me. This whole thing is strange, I'm telling you."

Frodo slowly sit up straight, and then ate his sausage pensively. He couldn't help looking around him into the trees, but for what, he did not know.

After a while, Sam sighed. "I didn't even get to tell proper a proper goodbye to my family. Only my old Gaffer knows I'm off with you." He looked at Frodo tentatively. "I'm sure my sister will be deeply saddened by your sudden departure, Mr. Frodo. I know we couldn't help it, and that this is supposed to be a secret journey, but I can't help feeling sad for her."

Frodo swallowed his last bite of food. "I know. I wish I had told her properly." _When I still could_, he thought for himself.

"It will be all right. You will see her again," Sam said encouragingly, but Frodo didn't answer and his eyes turned a little sad.

After eating dinner, they pulled out some blankets out of their bags and covered the grassy ground with them. The woods were dark at night, and strange noises made by animals made them jump. Sam was groaning as he tossed and turned, unable to sleep because of the roots sticking into his back.

Frodo smiled a little at his antics and put his hands under his head to stare up at the few stars he could see twinkling there beyond the foliage. Part of the full moon was also visible from where he laid.

He was thus lost in contemplation of the night for hours, thinking of nothing. Gradually, Sam's breathing eased as slumber finally claimed him.

It must have been late in the night when soft singing reached his ears. Jerking up on his elbows, he sat still and just listened. Then, he quietly stood up and ran into the woods. He followed the soft melody until he saw a familiar blue light up ahead.

He knew what he would see, he was expecting it, and yet the sight of it still took his breath away just like each of the few times he was given the chance to set eyes upon the passing of Wood Elves. Hiding behind a fallen tree trunk, he observed them as they passed, marvelling at their ethereal beauty and aching melancholy. There were more of them this time; a whole stream of Elves and horses that lasted for long minutes.

"They are going to the Grey Havens to board the ship that will take them to the Immortal lands," Bilbo had said.

"Why are they leaving Middle-earth?" Frodo had asked.

"Every person comes and goes in this tale we call life. The time of the Elves is almost gone, and the sea is calling them home."

When the procession of Elves faded, the forest became dark again. Frodo realized that he had not paid attention to the path he had taken to come here. Standing up uncertainly, he looked around and waited for his eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. Then, he carefully trod through roots and underbrush in the direction he thought his camp laid.

After walking for long minutes, he saw white light ahead.

Drawn to it by an invisible force, his steps led him forward and into a clearing bathed with moonlight. Staring up, he could see the full moon shining down on him from above, big and round, casting a pale light on his clothes, his hair, and his skin. He looked down at his hands in wonder, captivated by the ethereal glow that now enveloped them.

_This will be our secret. _

Slowly, he went to sit on a boulder erected in the center of the clearing. His heart was filled with wonder and nostalgia. After Allie had left, he had tried hard to go back to that moonlit clearing she had shown him, but he had never found it again, no matter how desperately he had looked for it. And now, after so many years, he was finally here in a moonlit clearing again that. In spite of it not being the one she had led him to, it bore a strange resemblance to it nonetheless. Maybe all clearings like these looked the same.

Slowly, he took off his necklace. The stone of the half moon had a reassuring weight on his palm. He lifted the stone to eye level and superimposed it on the full moon hanging there in the sky. His stone only covered half the moon, but the real moon looming behind completed the circle.

_No matter where we are in the world, we will be connected._

"I wonder where you are tonight," he spoke into the night. "I wonder if you are watching it too, and thinking about that foolish hobbit you have left behind so many years ago. Well, in any case, he is still thinking of you."

* * *

A few days later, Frodo and Sam came upon Merry as they were crossing Farmer Maggot's crops. Frodo was thinking of a way to get rid of Merry when they saw _them_ for the first time.

The Black Riders.

There were two of them; giant riders wrapped in a black cloak with a black hood that hid their features from view. The horses they rode on were tall and of a dirty looking black. The mere sight of them filled Frodo with an unwarranted and disturbing fear that he wouldn't forget for many nights to come. The Ring felt also heavy in his pocket, and his fingers kept brushing over its surface in spite of himself.

Until then, their expedition had felt like another stroll through the woods, but things had just gotten frighteningly real. Under the eerie light of the moon, the Black Riders chased after them in the woods until Merry led them to the ferry that would take them to the other side of the Brandywine.

The Black Riders were stopped by the river, and after letting out a chilling hiss that made all living things fall silent, they disappeared into the night. Frodo and Sam then had no choice but to tell Merry everything. Merry was deterred, but within the next minute had found his resolve to help them to reach Bree. Frodo could only glance at his friend in silent gratitude.

They finally reached the village by nightfall. It was raining buckets and the hobbits were cold. The only time Frodo had come to Bree was when he was fourteen and was asked to deliver Bilbo's letter to the inn. Even in the evening gloom, he could see that things were vastly different now. A large wooden gate now blocked the entrance to Bree that wasn't there before.

They knocked on the door and a guard opened the little window at their level.

"Hobbits! Three of you! What do you want?" he barked.

"We are heading for the Prancing Pony. Our business is our own," Frodo replied steadily.

The gatekeeper grunted, but a second later, the door creaked open. The hobbits sneaked past and trudged along the wet streets of Bree with all their senses in alert. The town was darker and fouler than Frodo remembered. The number of unfriendly faces had all but multiplied, or perhaps it was simply an illusion created by the rain and their meeting with the Black Riders.

They found the inn and asked for Gandalf. Butterbur, the barman, told them however that he hadn't seen Gandalf in six months. The hobbits looked at each other, at a loss as to what to do. The inn was packed that evening, and everywhere rose the hubbub of conversation and the harsh and guttural sound of laughter.

They found a table in retreat from the others and ordered some ale. Merry was excitedly sipping away at his, but Sam and Frodo were more reserved.

"I wonder what happened to Mr. Gandalf. This does not look good," Sam said, his eyes darting around the room.

"Don't worry Sam. I'm sure Gandalf will come."

However, in spite of Frodo's optimism, the hours passed and there was still no sign of the Wizard. Finally, unable to bear the sounds of conversation inside the inn any longer, he sought the calmness and coolness of fresh air outside. Sam wanted to follow after him but Merry was talking to him, and the next time he looked up, Frodo had already disappeared among the crowd.

The air was chill outside the inn and Frodo pulled his cape over his shoulders. When the door of the Prancing Pony shut close behind him, finally giving him a break from the hubbub of voices inside, he let himself relax. The night was clear, and some stars could be seen sparkling above.

He went to sit on a stone bench in the courtyard in front of the inn, his eyes scanning the night a little nervously. Merry had said the Black Riders would have to go all the way to the Brandywine Bridge in order to cross the river, and that should delay them somewhat. However, he feared that they might find him here sooner than he expected. The longer they waited for Gandalf, the more in danger they would be. They had to keep moving.

He was about to go back inside when low voices reached his ears. Slowly, carefully, he walked on the edge of the courtyard till he reached the main road. There, he was surprised to see two hobbits sitting against the wall, panting as though they had just run away from something. One was a lad and the other one a lass.

"Did we lose it?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yes. Yes, we must have."

Frodo could see that her features were pulled by fear, and unease stirred in his stomach. What were they talking about? Were the Black Riders here?

At that moment, the male hobbit turned his head in his direction and let out a cry of alarm upon seeing him standing there by the wall of the inn. Frodo immediately raised a hand in sign of peace, hoping they could see it in the dark.

"It's all right," he reassured them. "I am no enemy."

The other hobbit stood up warily nonetheless and stepped in front of the girl to shield her. "Who are you?" he asked harshly.

"A traveller," Frodo answered. "I came here with two companions and we are spending the night at the inn. I couldn't help but to overhear your conversation. You seem to have been running away from something. What was it?"

The hobbit approached and he seemed to be in his early thirties, just like Frodo. His eyes were guarded but his posture was more relaxed now. "There was a wolf chasing us," he finally answered. "The surrounding areas are infested with them as of late. It has gotten worse and worse over the years. Usually they refrain from coming into town, but lately they have been daring. The Big Folk fear them as well."

Frodo tried hard to remain impassive, although his blood was in turmoil at this news. "Did you just run away from one? Where was it?"

"By the big forge. They manage to sneak into the city even with the walls built around the place. I think they come from the mountains behind Bree."

The girl stepped out from behind her friend and said in a quiet voice: "You said you were a traveller. It is a rare occupation for a hobbit. Where do you come from?"

Frodo didn't know whether he should answer. After all, Gandalf had told him to keep his identity hidden. Spies of the enemy were everywhere, and could take any form.

"Is it the Shire?" she inquired again.

Frodo knew it was a bad idea, but he nodded nonetheless.

The girl was pensive. "The passage between the Shire and Bree is infested with wolves. I find it hard to believe that you have not run into any of them yet."

"I have not," Frodo answered blankly.

"Then you were lucky," the lad said, gaping at him intensely.

Suddenly, a shadow emerged from the dark road in front of them, advancing in their direction. It was a Big Person, and his footsteps were completely silent as his used boots contacted the ground. Frodo didn't see him at first because he had his back to him, but the other two hobbits did, and suspicion filled their traits.

Frodo caught the change in their expression and turned to look.

"It is one of the Rangers," the girl hissed with fear and contempt.

"You know him?" Frodo whispered.

"By sight. He is a very dangerous fellow. He roams in the wild and comes to the inn sometimes. What his right name is, I don't know, but around here we call him Strider."

The boy then seized the girl by the elbow and pulled her as he started walking away. "I wouldn't speak to him if I were you. Who knows what ill omens he carries with him. Come on, Lena. Let's go now."

"Yes, Reg," the girl replied.

Frodo paused at this; something was nagging at his memory. Reg? That was a familiar name. And then the memory came flowing back to him. His eyes widened, but the two hobbits had already gone inside the inn.

He didn't have time to think further of the crazy coincidence, for the Ranger had stopped beside him, instead of continuing forward to the inn like Frodo thought he would.

Slowly, Frodo looked up towards him. The Ranger's eyes were glowing intensely back at him in the middle of a face hardened by the sun and the wind. He had a worn out travelling cape draped around his tall and thin frame. Strands of dark dirty hair hung out from the hood over his head.

His mere presence was intimidating, and Frodo backed away by a few steps, suddenly frightened.

"Frodo Baggins," the Ranger called out his name in a surprisingly pleasant voice that contrasted with his ominous exterior.

Disbelief washed over him for a second. "You have me confused with someone else," he finally stated as firmly as he could manage.

"I don't think so," Strider replied placidly. "Frodo Baggins is your name. And it is no trinket you carry."

Frodo's hands started trembling and he had to clench them. How could this stranger know that? "I carry nothing!"

Strider ignored that. "Taking a stroll in the night by yourself, conversing with strangers, it seems you have little grasp of the gravity of the situation. You need more caution!"

His eyes were blazing so intensely that Frodo could not master the resolve to contradict him.

"Are you frightened now?" Strider asked.

"Yes…"

"Not nearly frightened enough. I know what hunts you."

Frodo's eyes became troubled. "Who are you really?"

Strider paused for a second as though in thought. "I am a friend of Gandalf the Grey."

Frodo's eyes were starting to light up with hope at those words when he heard his name being called out in a panicked voice. A second later, Merry and Sam were by his side, staring daggers at the Ranger.

"What do you want with our friend?" Merry asked angrily.

Strider lifted a hand in a sign of peace. "I am not your foe. I have come here to warn you: Frodo, you cannot wait for the Wizard any longer. _They_ will be here any minute. You know of what I speak of."

Frodo's eyes widened in alarm.

"Who are you to say that? Why should we believe you?" Sam cried out, brandishing his fist.

Suddenly, without warning, Strider leaped forward. With his left hand, he sent Sam and Merry jerking sideways, while his right hand drew out a sword that he directed towards Frodo. Frodo gasped and backed away until his back was touching the wall surrounding the courtyard of the inn. His heart was pounding thunderously as he eyed the point of the sharp blade directed towards his throat.

Sam and Merry wanted to lurch themselves at the Ranger out of desperation, but before they could, Strider backed off as fast as he had attacked, and sheathed his sword. Heaving, Frodo collapsed to the ground, a cold sweat on his brow.

"If I were your enemy, you would have long been dead," Strider said with the same calmness. "It is your luck that I am the one who came to you first in this night."

Sam swallowed, and Merry helped Frodo up on his feet. The three hobbits were now staring at the Ranger with the same befuddled expression on their faces, and a mixture of awe and fear in their hearts.

"Are you saying you are going to help us then?" Frodo asked quietly.

"Yes."

"For what reason? And how did you find us? How did you know my name?" Frodo demanded.

However, Strider ignored his questions and simply walked towards the stables of the Prancing Pony in that silent gait of his. Merry, Sam and Frodo looked at each other for a second, before following after him.

Strider chose a stout pony by the name of Bill and bought it from Butterbur. After which, he demanded food to be packed and readied from the kitchens. A mere thirty minutes later, he was leading the hobbits away from Bree, marching out into the night.

"Couldn't this unexpected expedition wait till we got some sleep at least? We spent the whole day running away from those Black Riders, and now we get no rest for the night," Merry muttered as he rubbed at his eyes.

"Death would have found you in your sleep if you had stayed," Strider replied evenly as he climbed the rocky slope in front of them.

"I'm still not sure we can trust this fellow," Sam whispered to Frodo worriedly. "He claims to be a friend of Gandalf, but what if he's leading us into a trap instead? I still think we should have stayed and waited for Gandalf."

"Gandalf is late," Frodo replied in the same tone. "The Black Riders would have caught up with us if we had waited for too long. Besides, when that Ranger drew his sword at me, I could see it clearly in his eyes that he would have taken me away by force if I had put on a fight. Whatever his intentions are, he is stronger than us and he can harm us. It is best to just follow him for now and hope for a chance of giving him the slip at one point or another."

Sam bit his lip darkly. "Where are you leading us anyway?" he cried out in direction of Strider's wide back.

"To Rivendell, master Gamgee," Strider's voice reached him.

At this, the three hobbits looked at each other once more, highly astonished. Whenever the Ranger opened his mouth, it was one surprise after the other. The hobbits didn't even know what to think anymore, and could only follow him into the wild as dawn finally peaked beyond the forest.

Starting that day and in those that followed, Strider led them into a swampland full of big hungry mosquitoes. The hobbits were trudging in knee-tall mud as they tried to swat away the avid insects from their skin.

"What do they eat when they can't get hobbit?" Merry complained.

On top of that, it was raining as well. Frodo was drenched from head to toes, hungry, tired and miserable. He wanted to ask Strider for a break, but they were in the middle of a bog with no dry land in sight, and Strider was pushing forward inexorably without looking back.

"Walk behind me," he urged. "This is the driest road."

"This is as dry as the bottom of a river," Sam grumbled, swatting at his neck.

Finally, as night fell, they reached an island of firm land in the midst of the swampland and set camp there. The hobbits wrapped themselves up in their blankets, disgusted at the feeling of their muddy clothes clinging to their skin.

"Wait here," Strider intimated before disappearing into the night.

The hobbits knew this was the perfect chance to run away, but they were too hungry and tired, and they would not make it alive out of the bogs without the Ranger.

A few hours later, Strider was back, carrying a stag on his shoulders. Under the hobbits' eager gaze, he lit up a fire and used his knife to cut off pieces of meat from the animal that he subsequently started cooking.

That night, the hobbits had a full meal for the first time in days. After that, Sam and Merry both wrapped themselves up in their blankets and succumbed to a deep slumber.

Frodo was exhausted, but he couldn't keep his eyes closed for some reason. Staring up into the night sky, he thought about everything that had happened, he thought about the Black Riders, and Bilbo's Ring. He fumbled his pocket to make sure the Ring was still in it and let out a small sigh when his fingers felt its round contour.

For a second, he wondered what on earth he was doing there at that moment. This whole thing was way beyond him, and he didn't want to tackle this when he had other plans in mind. If he didn't have the Ring with him, he would stayed behind in Bree to ask Reg and Lena more details about the wolves swarming the place. He was certain that he would have been able to find some clues leading to Allie. But now, he was heading far away, to Rivendell.

Suddenly, Strider's voice disrupted his thoughts. He was singing an Elvish song as he sat by the embers of the dying fire. His voice was full of sadness and longing.

"Tinuviel the elven fair,  
Immortal maiden elven-wise  
About him cast her night-dark hair  
And arms like silver glimmering."

"Who is she? This woman you sing of?"

Strider turned around, startled, and saw Frodo sitting there behind him with his blankets on his lap. His blue eyes were shining a little in the dark.

"Tis the lady of Luthien. The Elf-Maiden who gave her love to Beren, a mortal."

Frodo knew that Elves were immortal. A love such as theirs was bound to fail in the end. "What happened to her?" he asked softly.

Strider turned away and glanced up into the sky, his face closed. "She died."

"Is that the fate of two people who are different?"

Strider turned to face him again. For a second, his piercing eyes travelled to the half moon pendant peeking out from behind the hobbit's shirt. "The ways of the Valar are unpredictable. But history has a way of repeating itself."

Frodo was pondering over his enigmatic words when Strider gave him a slight smile, the first one to ever grace his face since the day they met. It made him look younger, and fairer, and breathed some gentleness onto his traits.

"Get some sleep, Frodo."

Frodo stood up instead. "I cannot. The very marrows of my bones are filled with exhaustion, and yet sleep is eluding me."

He went to sit beside Strider instead. "Why did you come?" he asked. "You knew my name and you knew of my quest. I still don't know whether to think of you as friend or foe, but my instincts are telling me to trust you. Am I wrong?"

Strider scratched his three day long beard thoughtfully. "I cannot answer your questions, Frodo. But I can tell you this: I mean no harm to you, and I shall protect you to the best of my abilities till we reach Rivendell."

Frodo nodded. He would have to be satisfied with this answer for now.

"It is strange. I thought the Black Riders would have found us by now, but there is still no sign of them. Did we lose them?"

Strider's face darkened once more. "I would not count on it. It seems they have been delayed, but for how long, I cannot say. It is best if we make haste."

The Ranger would not say anything more for the night, so Frodo went back to sleep.

The next day, Strider awoke them before dawn and urged them forwards once more, indifferent to Merry's cries of protest and Sam's jaw-breaking yawns. Only Frodo followed after him more determined than ever. They got out of the swampland that day, and walked over planes and tundra till they reached a high hill at nightfall.

Strider was nervous and kept looking around him as though he sensed something in the woods. He pointed to the stone construction on the top of the hill and commanded the hobbits to climb.

"This was once the great Watchtower of Amon Sul. We shall rest here tonight."

The hobbits collapsed into a rocky hollow on top of the Watchtower and stayed there, unmoving, just breathing, and trying to regain their wits. Frodo's whole body ached, but he refrained from complaining. Soon, they would reach Rivendell and this tiresome journey would come to an end. Then, he would be able to go back to Bree and resume his investigation. That thought was the only thing that kept him going.

Strider came back to them a few instants later and dropped some swords in front of them. Under the hobbits' wide eyes, Strider distributed one to each of them and told them to keep them near.

"Where did you find those?" Frodo asked.

"They were left behind in the watchtower, a long time ago. The blade is not as sharp as it should be, but it will have to do."

He shook his shaggy hair out of his eyes and looked at the three hobbits intensely. "Stay here. I will have a look around."

After that, the hobbits waited for hours on top of that cold hill, but Strider did not return.

As night fell, fog also started forming over the land beneath the hill, submerging the trees in a sea of white. The three hobbits huddled against the rock of the hollow with a growing sense of apprehension in the pit of their stomach.

"What if he's left us?" Sam thundered. "What if this was his plan all along?"

Frodo shook his head vehemently. "No, Sam. He wouldn't do that."

"Look!" Merry cried out suddenly as he pointed into the fog.

There, they made out five dark figures encircling their hill; they were riding on horses that seemed to be floating through the fog.

"The Black Riders!" Frodo stood up in alarm.

"See? See? That Ranger went to call the enemy!" Sam shouted with rage.

Frodo gripped his sword hard and pushed his friends ahead of him. "We need to run! Let's go now!"

The Ringwraiths were now off their horses and running up the slope of the hill unnaturally fast. The three hobbits hurtled down the slope on the other side and raced into a ring of broken stones, the ruined base of an ancient tower.

There was nowhere else to go. The hobbits stood back to back, brandishing their swords awkwardly. None of them had experience in fighting. Frodo felt a chill invade his spine at the sight of the first Ringwraith walking towards him silently, followed by the other four. Their dark robes flowed in the still night, and even though no face could be seen from the depth of their hoods, Frodo still felt pierced by their invisible gaze filled with evil.

The Ringwraiths drew their long swords out of their sheaths without a sound.

Sam and Merry's faces were pale as they witness the spectres' advance, but still, they mastered their courage and threw themselves forward. However, the closest Ringwraith pushed them aside with his iron hand as though they were rag dolls.

Frodo threw his sword down and fled, but his cape got caught in his foot and he fell harshly onto his side. Crawling away desperately, he managed to reach the edge of a broken stone against which he leaned. The Ringwraith was towering over him now, his sword pointed down towards his chest.

Was he going to die here so stupidly? Because of a Ring? Because he had trusted Strider too blindly?

And then, the Ringwraith was whispering to him in a dark and guttural tongue. Frodo did not understand the words, but suddenly the temptation to put on the Ring overwhelmed him. He struggled against it, but the ominous voice of the Witch King was dimming his senses.

His hand slowly took the Ring out of his pocket, almost as though it was moving of its own accord.

Frodo forced his arm to go back down with his other hand, battling against his own will. The dark spectre towering over him let out a screech that made his blood turn to ice.

The hobbit looked up in fear, and tried to recoil further, but the wall behind his back hindered him from doing so.

The Ring was calling to him now. The Ring was whispering things in his mind, words that he was not supposed to understand, but that somehow, he did. The Ring could save him. If he put it on and disappeared, he could escape from the Ringwraiths. He could live.

The Witch King towering over him lifted up his sword to strike him down, and Frodo closed his eyes and slipped the Ring on his finger.

The five dark figures uttered a chilling screech of excitement.

Frodo looked up at them from the ethereal world he now found himself. Everything was made of shadows and bent out of shape, including the faces of the five Ringwraiths that now appeared to him under their true form. Frodo gazed upon their pallid faces and felt the Ring pull on his hand, striving and struggling to go to them.

Frodo screamed and pulled his hand back with the last of the power of will he still possessed.

The Witch King's iron hand closed around thin hair, and he let out a screech of anger. Looming above the hobbit, he lifted his sword and brought it down towards his prey in a flurry of dark robes.

Frodo could only watch, unblinking, as the blade descended towards his chest. He waited for the pain, for the feeling of metal tearing through flesh, for the agony as his life leaked out of him. He waited for them, but they did not come.

There was a flash of yellow in front of his eyes, and the iron hand of the Witch King fell to the ground, severed at the wrist. Its steel fingers were still closed around the long sword that had meant to pierce through Frodo.

A four-legged animal was now standing in front of him, its shape bent this way and that by the invisible wind blowing in the shadow world of the Ring. Two piercing grey eyes peered down at him from within that light and Frodo felt recognition wash over him.

Frodo pulled the Ring off his finger with as much speed as he could manage, and the world returned to normal. He sat up in a daze as he looked around desperately; he saw Merry and Sam rushing towards him, and he saw Strider further away, brandishing a torch in one hand and his sword in the other, fending off the Ringwraiths all by himself. There was no sign of anyone else, no animal with grey eyes.

At his feet, the iron hand of the Witch King still lay severed from its body, with the handle of the sword clenched into those long steel fingers. Frodo touched it with his foot, and the whole thing turned to ash and black smoke.

He jumped onto his feet and ran forwards a few steps, peering frantically into the darkness. Sam soon restrained him and brought him back to the safety of a stone arch. "Mr. Frodo, stay still! Let's wait here till Strider finishes off those foul things!"

"Sam, Merry!" Frodo inquired urgently. "Did you see who saved me?"

Sam and Merry looked back blankly. "One of the Black Riders was attacking me," Frodo insisted, "but there was a light, and then the spectre was gone. Did you see what happened?"

"Something knocked into one of the Ringwraiths after you disappeared from sight," Merry answered in an undertone. "It was dark so I couldn't really see. But if you saw a light, that was probably Strider's torch."

Frodo shook his head. "It wasn't Strider! I'm sure of it."

"There was no one else," Sam replied gently. "But enough of that! We are saved now!"

Strider was now coming back towards them with sweat on his brow and alarm in his eyes. Kneeling down in front of Frodo, he let go of his sword and clasped the hobbit's shoulders, his eyes travelling up and down the length of his body in disquiet. "Frodo! Are you hurt anywhere?"

Frodo shook his head.

Strider let out a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry that I came back late."

Frodo stepped back. "Thank you for coming back at all. We thought you'd left."

Slowly, Strider shook his head as his penetrating gaze found that of Frodo. "I promised I would lead you to Rivendell, and I always stay true to them."

Merry and Sam looked slightly more at ease at his words.

"You seem like a good fellow after all, Strider," Sam conceded.

"Someone saved me," Frodo spoke up again firmly. "You saw who it was, didn't you, Strider?"

At this, the Ranger let go of Frodo's shoulders and sheathed his sword. "Come on, we cannot linger."

Frodo ran in front of him and cut off his path. "I am not going anywhere till you tell me who it was," he demanded in a strong voice. "I know you have some knowledge of this!"

Strider looked down at him impassively. "I don't know what you are talking about, Frodo. But later there will be a better time for words. We are in danger here. We must leave!"

As if to mark his words, a chilling screech resonated from somewhere deep inside the forest, close to where they were. Strider looked around him in alarm, before pushing the hobbits forward. "Run! Run!"

Frodo looked back once more into the darkness of Amon Hen before following after the others.

Guided by Strider, they ran across woods, jumping over roots and rocks, zigzagging among tree trunks. The Black Riders' screech resonated from time to time from behind their backs, but they did not seem to catch up with the hobbits in spite of their slow progression. Straining his ear, Frodo managed to hear other sounds coming from the forest; growls and dull hits as though a battle was raging in the depths of the woods.

At the approach of dawn, Strider suddenly let out a cry of joy and paused to a stop. A second later, two white horses appeared in view, ridden by two Elves. One of the Elves was dressed in grey robes and had long golden hair. As he sat straight in the saddle of his own horse, he was leading another one by the leash. The other Elf was a woman of extreme beauty whose skin glowed softly in the bright morning light. The hobbits all looked upon her with wonder, unable to blink.

Strider ran to them with a blinding smile on his face, and the two Elves descended their mounts gracefully, their robes flowing behind them.

"Glorfindel! Arwen!" Strider greeted.

He gave Glorfindel an accolade, and then paused in front of Arwen with a soft light dancing in his eyes. They exchanged a few things in Elvish that the hobbits failed to understand, and then Strider tenderly squeezed her hand. Frodo's eyes widened a little at the gesture, as he remembered the song Strider had been singing a few nights ago. Could he have been talking about himself when he had spoken those words?

"There is no time to waste," Arwen said in her melodic and timeless voice. "The Ringwraiths are coming. If we cross the river, the power of our people will protect us."

"Elves are standing in front of my very eyes," Sam muttered as though in a dream.

"They have come to save us," Merry added with awe.

Strider mounted the extra horse and then helped Frodo up. Arwen extended her hand down to Sam, and Sam took it, mesmerized. He let himself be pulled onto the horse in front of her with a dazzling smile on his face. Merry mounted with Glorfindel excitedly.

The three horses set out in a swift run among the trees, with their riders expertly guiding them over crooks and crannies on the ground. The Ringwraiths' screeches were more pressing now as though they could sense their prey escaping from them, but something was holding them back, hindering their pursuit.

Strider looked back, and a worried look crossed his eyes for a moment. "Be safe," he murmured, before hitting his heels against the flanks of his horse, making it spurt forwards faster.

They crossed the river and finally reached Rivendell where laid the house of Elrond. The hobbits' eyes filled with wonder at the sight of the clusters of elegant and artistic Elven buildings built into nature, among eternal flowers and the rushing foams of high waterfalls.

They crossed over a thin bridge and finally reached the rich valley set below towering cliffs and snow-capped mountains. The horses stopped in front of the breathtaking residence of Elrond's house. Arwen, Glorfindel and Strider helped the hobbits off their horses, and then Glorfindel took the leash off them, murmured something in Elvish, and the horses left, disappearing into the gardens.

Elrond's frame appeared at the threshold, and opened his arms wide in welcome. His face was not young or old, but the memories of thousands of past events seemed carved into each and every one of his features.

"Welcome to Rivendell," he bid them in a warm voice.

"Master Elrond," Strider saluted, and then bowed.

Elrond's face split into a warm smile. "It has been too long since the last time I set eyes on your face, Aragorn."

Frodo looked up at Strider – Aragorn – and a feeling of unease suddenly engulfed him. Under the lights of Rivendell, the Ranger's face was fair and noble, and his stature was kingly. Frodo realized he had no idea who this Man really was.

Elrond then showed the hobbits to their rooms, spacious habitations with king sized beds, soft feather pillows, and a plunging view on Rivendell. He told them to rest from their tiresome journey, and then they were left alone. Merry sighed as he let himself fall on his bed. "This is like a dream come true!"

However, something else was on Sam's mind. "Mr. Frodo, are you really sure it wasn't Strider who saved you back on that hill?"

Frodo thought back to the silhouette of the animal that he had seen while he had put the Ring upon his finger. When the animal had looked back at him, he had been brought back to that day in the clearing, years ago, when he had stared into her wolf eyes for the first time.

Sam frowned slightly at his master's silence, but Merry disrupted it by rolling onto the bed with a sigh of joy.

Burying his face in a pillow, he muttered: "I feel like I could sleep for a month."

Sam grunted in agreement, momentarily distracted away from his conversation with his Master. He finally let his travel bag drop from his aching shoulders. "We have not had a proper sleep ever since we left Bree," he murmured. "Nor a proper meal, for that matter. I miss my Gaffer's cooking."

Merry threw a pillow in his direction, and Sam vividly evaded it. Merry laughed and said: "We will get to taste Elven food! That must beat your Gaffer's cooking."

A joyous light filled Sam's eyes. "I have always dreamed of seeing an Elf up close. I saw them once when I was hiking through the Shire with Mr. Frodo, and after that I was forever mesmerized by their sight. I wonder if we will get to talk to them before we have to leave."

"I thoroughly intend to," Merry affirmed. "I want to pay my respects to the Lady Arwen for saving us back in the woods, and to Glorfindel as well."

He yawned broadly. "But not before I take a nap. I have never been this exhausted."

Sam yawned as well as he sat down on the bed. "You are right, Mr. Meriadoc. My eyelids seem to be made of lead."

Frodo, however, stood up from the bed. "You two take a good rest. I am going to take a stroll outside."

"More walking?" Merry exclaimed.

Sam came to his side. "You should rest first, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo gave him a smile. "I have a feeling I will not be able to sleep even if I rest. I will not be long."

After that, he opened the door and left the room, and Sam watched him go with a worried expression in his brown eyes.

Frodo wandered out into the gardens, feeling that Rivendell was even more dream-like after the darkness of the Black Riders. The sun was warm, and everywhere the soft chant of Elves could be heard, mingling with the chirping of birds and the soft notes sounds of harps.

He walked along one of the white streams, sighing in content at the sensation of the soft grass under his feet. His uncle Bilbo had also looked upon this same valley when he had been travelling with the Dwarves. He wondered whether Bilbo had also held his breath in awe at the sight of such a marvellous and peaceful landscape. He truly missed his uncle now, and hoped he was somewhere, safe.

He walked until he reached a fountain in the middle of a paved road. He sat at the border of the fountain and cupped his hands to drink the cold fresh water, feeling much more alive as he wiped the last droplets from his chin.

Then, he just stared ahead at the grey mountains towering over the green valley, and thought of the four-legged animal again. If it had truly been her, then she wouldn't have hidden from him afterward. Perhaps he had been wrong. Middle-earth was full of strange creatures, after all.

But why would any of those creatures save him?

Lost in thoughts, he was looking at the scenery without truly seeing it, when his eyes suddenly fell on an animal standing beside a tree, beyond the fountain and the paved road.

It was a wolf.

He leaned forward brusquely, blinking forcefully, thinking it was an illusion, but the wolf did not disappear.

Unable to speak, and unable to believe what he was seeing, Frodo pushed himself off the seat of the fountain and started to advance towards it, slowly, one step after the other.

The wolf stepped away from the tree, letting the sun light up the auburn fur of its back. He swivelled his ears upon seeing Frodo come towards him. Green eyes peaked back from above a furry shoulder, before the wolf sprinted away.

"No!" Frodo whispered to himself as he broke into a run. He was not going to lose sight of it this time, no matter what!

Frodo chased after the wolf across the landscape of Rivendell. Sometimes, he would lose it at the turn of a stream or behind a patch of trees, and would feel desperation rise within him, but always he would end up seeing the wolf again, standing there a few meters ahead of him. Soon, as his lungs burned for air, he realized that the wolf wanted him to follow it.

He had been feeling tired and hungry from his long journey, but now a new kind of energy coursed through his veins.

The wolf guided him out of the gardens of Rivendell and to the base of a rocky incline near one of the waterfalls. Frodo paused when he saw several other wolves standing by the river, lapping up water with their tongues. Those that were not drinking were lying down on the ground, licking their wounds, or sitting with their eyes half closed as they basked in the sun. A few of them, however, seemed badly off as they wreathed on the ground, their eyes shining in pain and madness. The auburn wolf went to each of them to check on their condition, before walking away with a grave look in his green eyes.

Frodo looked at the dying wolves in disarray, but he was certain of one thing now: this was _her_ pack.

Most of the wolves didn't pay him any heed, but some turned their glowing eyes in his direction and snarled a little. Frodo didn't let himself be deterred, and followed the auburn wolf up the hill. His leg muscles were aching at every step, but he was panting in wild anticipation, his blue eyes set on the top of the hill.

And finally, he reached it.

A few giant boulders were stacked into an incongruous pile in front of him, and the place was swarming with wolves. They all looked at him with shining eyes, and Frodo felt afraid for a second, realizing that if he was wrong about this, then he would not make it out alive. However, the wolves did not attack him; instead, they silently made way for the auburn wolf to pass.

The auburn wolf stopped at the base of the rocks and then looked up.

Slowly, Frodo lifted up his gaze as well, following the fissures in the rocks until he reached the uppermost part.

And there, he saw a figure sitting with her back turned to him. Long blonde curls (way longer than he remembered) undulated down to her waist as she sat cross-legged on the rock.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, just staring at her back, with his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

Then, finally, she uncrossed her legs from underneath her and stood up. Slowly, she turned around and looked down towards him from the apex of the boulders.

He found himself staring up into two familiar grey eyes set into an unfamiliar face. She was taller than he remembered, almost the same height as he was now. Her figure was muscular, unlike the plumper shape of most hobbit women he knew. Her face was also more elongated; nothing like the round cheeks of the little girl he used to know. There was a wild aura about her, and her grey eyes were as piercing as the blade of a sword.

Strong emotions washed over him as he gazed upon her face.

Had it really been almost twenty years?

He did not remember the last time he had uttered her name out loud, or even thought it in his mind.

"Allie Brandybuck…" he muttered under his breath, letting her name roll on his tongue once more, like something foreign.

And then once more, like he used to do every day so many years ago, he called out to her by her first name: "Allie!"


	32. Crumbling Walls

**Crumbling Walls**

"Allie!" Frodo called out again.

However, her face remained unreadable to him as she replied: "Frodo Baggins."

Her voice seemed familiar, and yet unfamiliar at the same time, just like her face.

She jumped down from the pile of boulders to silently land in front of him.

Seeing her up close, he recognized more familiar features in her face. However, there was a harshness to her traits that he did not remember being there before. He also saw with concern that one corner of her mouth was blackened, as though burned by something. The dark threads originating from her lips branched until they grew further back her cheek, like the branches of a vine.

"You spoke my name," he heard himself saying. "You know who I am, don't you? You remember?"

At the sound of his voice, something stirred in the depths of her grey irises and the coldness there swayed for a second. "Frodo Baggins," she repeated. "I know of your name."

Frodo smiled tentatively, not knowing what she meant by those words.

Allie looked at him for a second longer before deviating her gaze. "Yours is a name the Elves have started mentioning since Bilbo came to Rivendell."

"Bilbo is here?" Frodo exclaimed.

"Yes. But he has left quite a dangerous thing behind in your company. The Elves have been talking about your imminent arrival and about the way in which this evil shall be dealt with. And the wolves have been listening as well, so we know of your name, Frodo Baggins."

Frodo swallowed slowly. Did she mean she didn't remember him at all from the days of their childhood? That she only knew of him because he was the one carrying the one Ring? He felt his heart constrict.

She was now walking down the side of the hill, and immediately the auburn wolf rose and followed her. Frodo had a clear certitude now that it was Pippin.

As they passed by the wolves twitching in agony on the ground lower down the hill, Allie turned to Pippin and her eyes glowed silver as they seemed to communicate in a way that Frodo could not hear. Then, she drew the sword that was hanging by her waist and went to all the wolves in pain. She placed a hand on their heads and made eye contact with them one last time, before she sliced open their throats in one single stroke.

Frodo cringed upon seeing blood spurt out of their wounds.

Allie cleaned her sword on her cape and then sheathed it back. "They were injured by the cursed blades. It is better to put them out of their misery."

Her voice was harsh and cold, so different from the innocent voice Frodo used to remember. He eyed her blonde hair swinging behind her back at each step, and a sense of foreboding grew in him as he remembered Rosie's words:

_What you find may not be what you were looking for._

Even though he recognized her face, Allie was now a stranger to him. He didn't know how she had lived during those twenty years, and he didn't know at all what she was thinking or feeling anymore. What had he expected from their reunion? That she would smile and run into his arms? That she would call out his name with tears in her eyes? That everything would go back to the way it was?

"Allie," he tried again. "Were you the one who saved me back in Weathertop?"

"What if I did?" she answered after a while. "A second later and the Ring would have fallen into enemy hands."

Frodo refused to believe that was the reason she had saved him for. He meant to grab her by the arm to make her face him, but she evaded him and one grey eye glared at him in warning. "Do not touch me."

Frodo slowly let his hand fall as hurt swirled up in his chest, but nonetheless he stepped in front of her to stop her advance.

"Allie, I know it has been a long time, but do you not remember me at all? You used to live in the Shire when you were a child. You must remember Bilbo, at the very least!"

Her eyes were clear as she watched him speak. "I remember," she finally answered.

"Then…!" he exclaimed, but then cut himself short, because the emotions he had hoped to see were absent from her features.

"I thought you would be happier than this," he whispered more to himself than to her.

She blinked, and then the harshness seemed to recede a bit from her traits as she seemed to understand what he wanted to say. "I am glad to see that you are well. I remember where I come from, and I remember my past in the Shire, if that is what you mean to ask. But it has been a long time since then."

He studied her face intently, but she was simply gazing back at him with this face that he could no longer read. "It _has_ been a long time," he finally agreed, and looked away to hide his sadness.

She stepped over him and continued walking. Without turning back, she pursued: "More importantly, you brought the Ring here while keeping it safe, and we are all grateful to you for that. There shall be a council held here in Imladris where the fate of the one Ring shall be decided. Your task in this matter is probably over. You should back to the Shire, to where your home is."

Frodo followed after her, but did not reply.

She continued walking until she reached Elrond's residence. As they neared the entrance, almost too fast to register, the auburn wolf then turned into a hobbit that was familiar to Frodo's eyes. Frodo couldn't help staring at him, he whom he had not seen either for long years. There was still a playful crinkle at the corner of his green eyes, but the harshness that decorated Allie's traits were also present on his face and in the depth of his gaze.

When Pippin saw Frodo looking at him, he, at least, gave him a true smile that warmed up his heart somewhat. Then, he followed Allie into Elrond's house.

Frodo paused a moment at the entrance to recompose himself. This was different from what he had expected, but at the same time, he felt foolish for expecting anything else. Nineteen years was almost a quarter of a lifetime. He could not even begin to guess how she had lived her life during that time. Allie and him were strangers now, and that was the reality of it.

He sighed deeply and then stepped over the threshold into the white polished courtyard fronting the Elven Lord's house.

Movement on the terrace managed to get his attention and he headed in that direction. He paused upon seeing the scene unfolding in front of his eyes.

Sam and Merry were standing on one side of the terrace, dumbfounded and in shock as they looked upon Allie and Pippin who had just walked in. Sam couldn't take his eyes off Allie, while Merry was gaping at Pippin.

"No way!" Merry was shouting. "Pippin? You say that you are Peregrin Took? D-don't even lie! My friend Pippin died years ago! I was there when he was buried!"

"I know it must be a shock, Merry. But it really is me, cousin!" Pippin declared uncertainly with his hands up for emphasis.

Merry made a small step forward, and then another, and then another, until he was in front of Pippin, close enough to touch. He raised a trembling hand and put it down on Pippin's arm, gasping a little when he made contact. Pippin eyed his hand fixedly for a moment, before he raised his own and put it above Merry's.

Merry's gaze was shaking as he stared up into Pippin's face. "Your face is familiar. Are you… are you really him? How can this be?! I don't understand! This must be a dream!"

"It's not a dream, Merry! I never thought the day would come again," Pippin answered thickly. Then, he opened up his arms and hugged his friend tight.

Merry's eyes were so wide that his pupils were swimming in all the white. Slowly, as though still unable to accept the reality of such a thing, he lifted his own hands and returned the embrace.

But then, he pulled Pippin away from him to look into his face frantically. "What happened to you?" he cried out. "I remember you being a trouble-maker when you were a child, but this is extreme, even for you! Did you fake your own death then? How could you do this to me? To your family? Do you know what they have been through? You must return to them at once, and tell them that you are still alive!"

He stopped to catch his breath.

Pippin smiled a bit sadly. "It's a long story."

Merry swallowed audibly and pointed a finger to Pippin's chest: "Then you better start telling it right now!"

On her end, Allie was appraising Sam's pale face; the gardener looked like he was seeing a ghost.

"You are…" he whispered. "I recognize your face!"

Before he could say anything more, however, Strider came into the terrace, followed by Elrond. The Ranger had changed into a set of new clothes and had slightly trimmed his beard. He now looked young and vibrant, almost like a different person.

"Allie!" he greeted as he made way to her. "You made it."

Her features lightened up somewhat at the sight of him. "My wolves and I would never go down so easily," she answered, and then added more somberly: "Many of them perished, however."

Strider knelt down and touched the blackened skin on her cheek.

"I bit off the hand of the Witch King of Angmar," she explained upon seeing his concerned expression.

"You were too reckless," Aragorn sighed. "But it is my fault for not making it back to the hobbits in time."

"Don't say that. I am grateful for all your help."

Aragorn asked some Elves to bring him athelas plant and water, and they complied easily with his demands. When he had everything he had asked for, Aragorn dipped a handkerchief in athelas water and then applied it to the blackened skin on her face, murmuring low words under his breath.

Frodo was looking from Aragorn to Allie. Back in the woods, he had suspected that Strider knew his savior, and he had been right. He wanted to ask them some questions, but Elrond's voice cut him off:

"Glor Bereth," the Elf-Lord greeted Allie by the name the Elves had given her.

She bowed in return. "Master Elrond."

"What is the meaning of your earlier conversation? Were you involved in the rescue of the hobbits?" The Elf then asked with a tinge of disapproval.

Allie looked away and remained silent. Aragorn continued working on her wound as he replied: "My Rangers and Allie's wolves have been made aware of evil approaching the Shire. Gandalf told me a fortnight ago that the Nine had left Minas Morgul in search of the one Ring. One of the wolves reported that the Ring was in Frodo's possession, an heirloom left to him by his uncle Bilbo. We knew of the time Frodo and Sam set out on their journey as per Gandalf's directives, and we followed them secretly until the Black Riders sneaked past us by surprise, sooner than we expected them."

Aragorn and Allie exchanged a look. "As you have forbidden Allie to involve herself in all matters concerning the Ring of Power, she asked me to guide the hobbits safely back to Rivendell while she and her pack worked to delay the Ringwraiths. However, five of the Ringwraiths escaped the attention of the wolves and subsequently attacked us at Weathertop."

Pippin nodded. "Arwen sensed this new turn of events, so she and Glorfindel rode out to meet with Aragorn and the hobbits."

Elrond's gaze swept over Allie, Aragorn and Pippin one by one. "Is this your way of respecting my orders to not get yourself involved?" he finally spoke to Allie.

"I stayed away from the Ring. I was only involved indirectly," she replied without looking at him.

Elrond rubbed his forehead and gave up on the argument. "Well, what is done is done, and the outcome is for the best. Thanks to you, the Ring and its bearer are now safe and sound in Rivendell."

At this, everyone turned to look at Frodo, making him look back uncomfortably. However, after hearing this conversation, he was filled with confusion. Why had Allie been so intent on protecting him by even sending Aragorn to their aid and disobeying Elrond's commands? Did that mean she still cared about him? Or was it only out of duty of protecting the Ring? If she really cared, then why was she so reserved? He couldn't understand.

* * *

The next day, Gandalf arrived in Rivendell. Frodo, Sam and Merry were relieved to the utmost degree to see that he was not hurt. Gandalf was equally overjoyed to see all hobbits safe and sound.

The same day, travellers from various races started arriving at Rivendell as well. There were Elves from distant lands, Dwarves and Men.

Allie observed them as they came, leaning against a trunk of one of the trees bordering the courtyard at the entrance of Rivendell.

"They are here for the Council," Pippin said beside her.

He was in hobbit form, something that she got to see less and less often. They both knew what it meant, but none of them spoke of it, for it was beyond their control.

Beside them, a tall and noble Man, wearing an armor with the sign of a white tree encrusted upon it, descended from his white horse with his cape billowing behind him. His eyes fell on Allie and Pippin, and for a second an expression of wonder painted itself on his traits.

"You are Halflings!" he exclaimed as he approached them.

"Not really," Pippin replied good-naturedly. "We are…"

"And you, you must be from Gondor," Allie interrupted Pippin and conveyed to him via the Blood: "_Don't tell him of our nature. Not yet."_

The Man frowned when he saw the she-hobbit's eyes turn silver for a second, but then it was gone and he thought it must have been a play of light.

"Indeed," he answered. "I am Boromir, son of Denethor, heir to the Steward of Gondor, and captain of the White Tower."

"I am Allie. And this is Pippin."

Boromir looked down at them with shiny eyes. "A dream prompted me to come henceforth to Imladris."

"Seek for the Sword that was broken:  
In Imladris it dwells;  
There shall be counsels taken  
Stronger than Morgul-spells.  
There shall be shown a token  
That Doom is near at hand,  
For Isildur's Bane shall waken,  
And the Halfling forth shall stand."

Allie looked troubled when Boromir finished talking. "You came to the right place," she finally commented. "Elrond's Council is about to begin."

"Will you attend it?" he inquired.

Clear eyes looked up at him. "I am not officially invited to it, but I am curious to see how it will unfold."

Boromir looked around carefully, and then whispered in a low voice: "So it is true! The Ring… the Ring of the enemy has been found? The Halflings that appeared in my dream must be referring to your people! Are you in possession of the one Ring?"

Two grey eyes settled on him placidly. "The Ring has indeed been found, but not by me. Halflings are gathered here as we speak, but…," she eyed him carefully. "I am certain your dream did not refer to me."

Boromir was quite puzzled by her words. "But you are a Halfling, are you not?"

"Part of me is."

Boromir was left speechless at this.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Boromir, son of Denethor. I hope you find the answers you seek for at the Council."

That being said, she turned heels and left with Pippin behind her.

"He looked quite confused," Pippin spoke up in amusement when they were out of earshot.

Allie simply shrugged. "It is understandable since he doesn't know of our nature."

"You have taken quite a liking to speaking in riddles."

"It is what Elrond has taught me all these years after all."

Pippin chuckled. "Those Elves have a way of making everything more complicated."

The gardens surrounding Elrond's residence were now coming into view. "The Council will be starting soon," he said.

"There is still some time."

"Allie," Pippin called out softly.

She stopped. It had been a while now since she had heard that tone in his voice. She turned around to face him.

"What about Frodo?" Pippin asked, his green eyes shining a little.

She looked away. "He will probably go home after the Council."

"You know that's not what I meant. After all this time, you have met him once more. You should catch up with him before he goes."

She caressed the hilt of her sword out of habit. "I wouldn't know what to talk about. And in all honesty, I am not so sure meeting again like this was for the best."

Pippin crossed his arms. "I know you don't mean that. He must have wanted to meet you too. I could see it in the way he was looking at you. And I know you feel the same, but you have become too good at hiding your own thoughts as of late. Too good for your own good."

She cast down her gaze for a second. "I meant what I said. There is a difference between what I want, and what I know is best."

"Allie…"

"That's enough, Pippin," she interrupted calmly. "You need to find out where Elrond will be holding the Council. Send me the location when you know of it. I will meet up with you then."

That being said, she entered the gardens, her feet silently shuffling among grass and flowers.

Pippin shook his head at her retreating figure and then transformed into a wolf.

Allie wandered into the sumptuous garden where sweet fragrances constantly rose from the earth. All around her, birds were chirping merrily, hidden behind the green foliage of tall trees. And there, a few miles in front of her, she saw Arwen Undomiel sitting on a carved stone bench, with her long black hair flowing around her as she gazed softly upon a bird perched on her finger.

"Arwen," Allie called out softly.

The Elf turned around and the bird flew away from its temporary perch. Her gentle blue eyes beamed with joy upon seeing the hobbit. "Well met, Allie."

Allie sat down beside her with a chuckle. "Thank you for not calling me Glor Bereth like your father does."

Arwen laughed, her voice rich and full of melody. "That is because father likes you."

Allie lost herself in contemplation of the eternal beauty of the nature surrounding them. Ever since she had come to Rivendell, this had become her haven of peace.

"The garden is as beautiful as always."

Arwen smiled as her gaze swept across the acres of flowers and streams. "How I wish it could be like this everywhere," she deplored, "but alas, troubled times are ahead."

She turned worried eyes onto her friend. "I heard you bit the Witch King. How are your wounds?"

Allie touched the corner of her mouth; the black threads had almost completely receded. "Thanks to Aragorn's swift intervention, it is getting better now. But what are those specters? They are immaterial, and yet touching them feels like getting burned by acid."

"They were once great kings, corrupted by the nine Rings of power given to them by Sauron. Driven by greed, they succumbed to the darkness and are now bound to the will of the One Ring. Nazguls, specters of this world, they are neither alive nor dead."

"But even _they_ would not dare come into Rivendell."

Arwen sighed. "The Ring is safe here for now, but it cannot stay here forever. I do not know what my father intends to do with it, but I do know he has called upon the representatives of the free people of Middle Earth to come to a decision."

Allie looked up at her troubled expression. "You are afraid that Aragorn might decide to involve himself in this matter?"

Arwen's blue eyes settled on her. "Yes. My heart is ill at ease at the thought of it, but a part of me knows that this is Aragorn's destiny." She smiled a little. "And for all the love I have for him, I shall not hinder him from his path."

"It is a path he is not yet willing to take."

"Maybe not now, but one day he must. He is the last descendant of Isildur, carrier of the blood of Numenor. His time will come. He is scared he might succumb to darkness like his fathers, but I have faith in him."

Allie stared at Arwen for a moment, and something akin to sadness crossed her grey eyes. "You must have been glad to see him again after so long."

Arwen's eyes sparkled sweetly at this, and she crossed her fingers on her lap shyly. "I saw him last night, and we had a long talk." Her hand rose to her neck and brushed against the bare skin there. "I gave him the Evenstar."

Allie drew in a sharp breath. "Arwen! But does that mean…?"

Arwen's eyes were brimming with resolve. "I told him that I am willing to choose a mortal life."

"And… did he accept it?"

"Yes, he did," Arwen said, and her whole body seemed to glow with happiness.

Allie seized the Elf's hand gently. "I am happy for you. You have made a life-changing decision." She let her gaze wander. "It must have taken a lot of courage."

Arwen studied her friend's profile for a moment, and then gently, she removed her hand from hers to reach into a folding of her dress. "I have something for you."

She leaned forward and put something down in Allie's hand. The hobbit looked down, and then her breath hitched a little, for in her palm lay her half moon pendant. She had lost the chain long ago when her necklace had snapped back in Bag End twenty years ago, but Arwen had now inserted a fine silver chain in it.

"I have seen you gazing at this object many times," The Elf said. "It must mean a lot to you. And to him as well."

She smiled upon seeing Allie's confused frown. "When Glorfindel and I rode to the rescue of the hobbits, I saw the same necklace around Frodo's neck."

At this, Allie seemed shaken for the first time. Slowly, she drew her knees against her chest and let the half moon pendant swing from its new chain in front of her eyes. Her features softened as she rested her chin on her knees and gently twirled the cool stone of the half moon in between her fingers.

After a long silence, she found herself confessing: "Arwen, I have told you many times of my predicament, and you have comforted me during some of my darkest hours. But sometimes, when even your words could not help me shake off the loneliness and the homesickness that I felt, I would send one of my recruits to the Shire to get news of how life was in that place. And of course, sometimes they would tell me about him as well."

Arwen was listening to her kindly.

She bit her cheek and twirled the necklace in her hands. "I honestly can't say whether news of him used to make me happy or sad. I suppose it was a mixture of both. Arwen, you told me once your father is opposed to your union with Aragorn, for he can't see a future there. But I can."

Arwen was slightly stunned at her words.

Allie's pale eyes searched hers. "Even though Aragorn is mortal, he will live longer than other humans. You have many years left with him. As ephemeral as those years might seem to you, they will be a whole lifetime for him. I can tell you this because I know what it feels like to have no time left at all."

Arwen opened her mouth to say something, her eyes sad, but Allie slowly shook her head and pursued gently: "There is a sand-watch inside of me. A couple of years is probably all I have left; I can feel it within myself. Even if during these past years, I have tried to transform as little as possible so as to slow down the process, slowing it down is all I can do. Even if I get to know Frodo again now, like I used to before, it will only bring pain and heartache to the both of us in the end. I have already parted from him once, long ago, and I don't want to go through that again. Besides, he has a home and a lass waiting for him. I think this is for the best."

"But will _he_ be happy with your decision? The fact that he still wears the other half of the moon means something," Arwen pointed out.

She let out a short sigh. "Once he learns of my fate, he will come to the same conclusion as I have. Besides, I'm sure it is but a memory that he holds dear. I have changed, Arwen. I don't even recognize myself sometimes. He will come to see this as well, and his illusion of me will be shattered."

Arwen's hand was cool on her cheek when she forced Allie to face her. "Do not lie to yourself," she pleaded softly, "and do not have so little faith in him. I think he would not desert you, not even after he hears the truth. You can't just let him go like this, thinking that you have forgotten him." Arwen's blue eyes smiled gently at her friend. "You love him, don't you?"

But Allie was silent at that. When she had been a young girl, she did like him. She liked him enough to die for him. She didn't know if she could still do that now. In her heart, she had always conserved a warm memory of Frodo, but could she really call that love? This illusion of warmth? The remnants of a young girl's crush?

Slowly, she shook her head. "I don't think I love him, Arwen. Love was never a feeling meant for my kin. Besides, I barely even know him now."

Her eyes shone silver at that moment, and she glided the half moon necklace into her pocket. "Pippin has just informed me that the Council is about to start. I will see you later."

Arwen watched stand up and leave with sadness in her eyes.

* * *

Allie walked swiftly along the richly decorated hallways that would lead her to the place where Elrond's Council would be held. As she passed by an overture into one of the gardens, she suddenly caught sight of Frodo leaving his uncle Bilbo and heading her way. For a moment, their eyes met, but then she quickly looked away and pushed forward.

"Allie!"

Allie closed her eyes for a second, took a deep breath and then turned to face him, watching as he panted slightly from running too fast.

"I'm not exactly sure where the Council is," he started tentatively, his blue eyes gauging her reaction.

"I'm heading there. Follow me."

He nodded, relieved, and walked by her side. She could feel his gaze burning on her skin as he stared at her. It was quite an eerie experience, she had to admit. Frodo looked so familiar and yet so different. He was taller and his face less childish, but those blue eyes of his were just as she remembered. He had really grown up well, and it was hard not to stare at him, but she tried her best to keep her eyes forward.

"I just saw Uncle Bilbo after a long time," he was saying. "He seems to have aged a lot. I think it was the Ring that was giving him his youthful appearance, but now that he has separated from it, the years have caught up with him at once."

Allie didn't answer, but Frodo didn't seem to mind as he pursued: "He has been writing the story of his adventures in the Red Book. He has been doing that for a while even before he left the Shire, but now he has finally finished it. Have you seen Bilbo yet? I'm sure he will be glad to meet you after all this time. He's even made you one of the heirs to Bag End, can you believe that? He's always felt such guilt about letting go of you all those years ago."

"He did not have a choice," she answered evenly. "But I am glad that he did, because by leaving the Shire, I have finally found my place in the world."

"Have you been in Rivendell all this time?"

"This is where Gandalf first left me. He thought the Elves would understand my nature best. Master Elrond subsequently raised me here. He taught me many things from Elvish literature to the ancient history of Elves and of Middle Earth. I also learned swordsmanship from Glorfindel, and sewing from Arwen."

Frodo eyed her proud profile and firm expression, and then dropped his gaze sadly. "Have you never missed the Shire? Not even once?"

"All my days were filled with activities. And I also had to deal with affairs of my pack. There was never much time for thinking about the past."

Frodo did not expect to feel such ache at those words. Perhaps she was right. Why would she remember someone like him when she now lived amongst those-awe inspiring people that he had only heard of in tales and songs? She was now a skilled fighter, leader of the ferocious wolves and friends with people like Lord Elrond, and Strider. She was now someone who could make a difference in the world if she wanted to, whereas he was a just a hobbit whose opinion mattered not.

He had always thought it would be incredibly hard to find her, but that once he did, they would have had the best reunion in the world. However, the harsh reality was now staring him in the face, for even as she stood there close to touch, she was more unattainable than ever. What they once had had long ceased to exist, and he had been the only one foolish enough to still hold on to its shadows for all these years.

"We are here," her voice made him look up.

In front of him, he saw a round terrace surrounded by whispering trees and on top of which were set tall chairs. A lot of people were already gathered there, Dwarves, Elves and Men, all chatting quietly among themselves. Frodo spotted Gandalf sitting at the far end beside a vacant seat.

He made to go to him when he noticed that Allie had now stepped back.

"You are not coming?"

"I will listen from here." She then signalled to the vacant seat beside the Wizard. "Go on ahead."

Frodo's gaze lingered on her a second more before he stepped onto the terrace. Allie slowly released the fists she had been making with her hands, not proud for having said such rough words, but she knew they had been necessary. Things would be much easier once this whole matter was settled and Frodo went back to the Shire.

Pippin came to join her, and they both hid behind one of the tall columns as Elrond demanded silence to start the Council.

The negotiations dragged on for hours and hours, with representatives of each race standing up to introduce themselves and to give their opinion on Elrond's proposal to destroy the One Ring in the mountain of fire from where it had been created. Most of the people present were against the idea, for it was a suicide mission. Boromir, in particular, was giving some very passionate speeches about the alternative of using the enemy's weapon against him in war. However, Allie knew Elrond would never allow that to happen. It was too dangerous and would lead to certain defeat. As though Boromir's words were not enough to render everyone on edge, the Dwarves, and in particular Gimli, son of Gloin, kept making snide remarks about the untrustworthiness of Elves.

All of the Elves present tried to let it slide, but there came a point where Legolas of Mirkwood could stand it no longer and stood up violently to put the Dwarf back in his place. That almost led to a fight that Gandalf managed to calm down with great difficulty.

It was also revealed that Aragorn was in actuality the descendent of Isildur with claim to the throne of Gondor due to the blood of Numenor flowing in his veins. Boromir fell silent at this and spent the rest of the Council staring Aragorn down.

Frodo was silent, saying nothing as he sat there with a gloomy expression. Allie found her eyes sliding to him every now and then, for she could finally observe him to her heart's content without him knowing. She knew this would probably be the last time she got to see him clearly like this, because after he returned to the Shire, she would not get such a chance again.

As she eyed him sitting there, a memory suddenly resurfaced from the depths of her mind. It was him standing next to the dark lake, with snowflakes falling all around them. He had lighted candles on the water for her birthday, and she could see their light reflected in his gentle and smiling blue eyes. A kind of familiar warmth that she forgot existed suddenly filled her chest, accompanied by a rush of longing.

"Do you think they will ever reach a consensus?" Pippin asked with a yawn, interrupting her thoughts.

She straightened up and blinked a few times to try and bring herself back to the present. "Unlikely," she finally answered. "I agree with Lord Elrond that the Ring should be destroyed. Deep down, everyone else also knows it is the best course of action, but no one is willing to attempt it."

"Mount Doom in Mordor," Pippin pondered. "That is quite a distance from here."

"We have seen the mountains surrounding it from afar on one of our journeys with Aragorn," Allie said. "It is a barren land of death. I don't think anyone would survive its crossing."

"How is the Council going?" Councillor's voice resonated inside her mind.

Allie crossed her arms as her eyes turned silver. "Not well. They are trying to decide on who should carry the Ring of power to Mordor."

"I don't think any one of them can resist its power of corruption. When I was still an Elf, I have heard rumors and whispers about this weapon. I know it has corrupted the soul of Isildur as he stood inside the mountain of fire."

"Are Men the only ones susceptible to its evil?"

"Not only Men, but also Elves and Dwarves and even Hobbits. The Ring not only feeds on people's greed and ambition, but also turns people's dreams and hopes into obsession. The longer one stays in its presence, the longer one is subjected to its dark whisperings, whisperings that awaken the evil in even the purest soul, for every living thing carries its share of good and evil. There is never one without the other."

"Would we be susceptible to it as well?"

Councillor fell silent at this. "Wolves are by nature creatures with simple desires. A good territory with enough game to feed ourselves and freedom to go where we want to go, that is all we need. We only wage war among ourselves and do not care for the politics of other races, for within one pack coexists many races to begin with. It is also against our well-being to kill off people from other races needlessly, for then we would waste potential recruits for ourselves. Because of this, few people even know of our existence as we have lived peacefully away from the struggles of this world, just existing by our own laws. Therefore, in that regard, I believe wolves would benefit little from obtaining the one Ring, and the Ring would not benefit either from using us."

"Besides, we don't have a hand to put it on," Pippin pointed out.

A few wolves who were listening to the conversation snorted at that.

"Why are you asking?" Informant asked suspiciously. "You are not thinking of doing something foolish like carrying the Ring to Mordor, are you?"

"Not at all," Allie retorted. "Why should I? It is not our problem."

"Well, good," Informant grunted. "You had me worried because of your earlier orders for Protector's unit to combat those Nazgul."

"But part of your decision to fight the Nazgul was purely personal, wasn't it?" Pippin suggested innocently.

Allie shot him a dark glare and Pippin stepped back amusedly.

"I ordered them to attack because I cannot suffer those repugnant intruders on our territory. We are not going to the enemy, but if the enemy comes here, are we just going to stay idle?"

"Of course not!" snarled Hunter. "I am most satisfied when I am crushing the skulls of those sickly Orcs and goblins. They are the dirt and scum of this world."

Allie was amused. "Where are you, Hunter?"

"Further South near the gap of Rohan. These lands are swarming with Orcs lately. And also Wargs. Evil fumes are rising out of Isengard as of late."

"Gandalf has told the Council of the betrayal of Saruman," Pippin said.

Allie nodded. "And you, Councillor, what are your whereabouts?"

"I am near the borders of Mirkwood Forest. The Elves here are unaffected by the evil stirring in the South. I plan to travel further down to the woods of Lothlorien in the next couple of days."

"And I am still keeping an eye on the Shire," Informant declared before being asked. "Foul smelling fellows keep coming and departing with carts full of food and pipe weed, heading towards Isengard. My unit and I have wiped off two such companies, but more keep coming."

Allie was satisfied with this report. "Good job, everyone. Keep covering those territories. If any other packs interfere, inform me right away."

"You have assimilated most of them over the years," Informant spoke up merrily. "I doubt any remain."

"We are probably now the biggest pack in the history of this land," Hunter growled proudly.

"It is not my intention to rain on your parade," Councillor stated softly, "but there are the wolves of the Rhovanion. They come and go as ghosts, they say, and none knows of the size of their main pack. And also, there are the Wargs, those sullied by dark magic and Orc blood."

"We will deal with them in time," Allie answered. "For now…"

A big commotion suddenly arose from the Council. Allie focused her eyes on the scene in front of her and noted that the situation had all but degenerated. Everyone was now shouting at each other and brandishing their fists. Gandalf was trying to calm them, but to no avail. The only people who remained seated were Aragorn, Frodo and Elrond, and they all looked hopeless and weary.

Allie's ear twitched and her eyes suddenly settled on the one Ring resting on the pedestal in the center of the terrace. There seemed to be a dark voice coming from it. She felt a chill run up and down her spine.

"Pippin, do you hear that?" she whispered.

Pippin's green eyes were troubled. "Yes… yes I do."

"I will take it."

Allie snapped her head away from the Ring and saw Frodo's small figure standing there amidst the chaos, and her heart filled with apprehension.

"I will take it!" he repeated in a clear voice, his blue eyes firm.

Allie wanted to bounce onto the terrace but Pippin held her back by the arm, for it was too late. The people at the Council had heard him this time and were now slowly turning to look at him.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor!" Frodo looked at all the faces and then uncertainty gained him over. "Although… I do not know the way."

"No…" Allie shook her head violently. "That fool! Why is he… Why!"

Gandalf looked upon him wearily, and then gave him a small smile as he put a hand on his shoulder. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear."

Aragorn finally stood up as well and walked to where Frodo was standing. Kneeling down in front of him, he presented to him his sword: "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword."

Legolas also approached. "And you have my bow."

"And my axe." Gimly grunted, eyeing Legolas darkly.

Even Boromir ended up walking to him. "You carry the fate of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

Frodo could only stare in wonder as all the greatest fighters in all Middle Earth stood by his side, smiling down at him encouragingly.

And then Sam and Merry were running towards him as well from the bush behind which they were hiding.

"Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me!" Sam announced firmly, staring at Lord Elrond, who was highly amused. Merry nodded eagerly. "You'd have to send us home tied in a sack to stop us."

"This is not happening…" Allie whispered. "He doesn't know how dangerous this could be!"

"What is going on?" Informant's voice resonated pressingly.

"Frodo is going to carry the Ring," Pippin told him in wonder.

Informant guessed at Allie's intentions immediately. "No!" he growled. "You said you would not involve yourself in this matter!"

"If you bind yourself to them," Councillor added. "You will have to follow them all the way to Mordor. What will happen to the pack then? We cannot all go with you, and we cannot afford to lose you."

Allie's eyes were hard. "Apart from Aragorn, I cannot trust anyone else to have Frodo's well being at heart. It is the Ring they want to protect, they care nothing about its bearer! They would sacrifice him in a second if it suits their interests!"

"There is no reason to think so badly of them already," Pippin protested.

Allie's eyes set on him. "You are too naïve, Pippin. The world is not as good as you think. But now that I think about it, you should join them. I cannot leave the pack leaderless, but I can send you there amongst them."

"I am your Protector," Pippin exclaimed. "I should stay by your side!"

"This is an order," she insisted, and then lower: "I trust you the most. I know you will protect him well."

Pippin was shaking his head, baffled, but she was now speaking as his Queen, and he could not disobey her. He gave her one last look and then sauntered onto the terrace. Everyone was stunned upon seeing him, Frodo more than the others.

"You need people of intelligence on this mission… quest… thing." Pippin declared joyfully in response to their shocked faces.

"Pippin…" Frodo whispered. "Why are you here?"

Pippin gave him a radiant smile. "To accompany you, of course."

Elrond frowned for a second upon seeing him, but then his traits relaxed. "Nine companions. So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

* * *

Frodo was now back in his quarters, staring at the Ring now hanging from a silver chain. He sighed, wondering what folly had pushed him to take responsibility for it during the Council.

_It's because you want to make a difference, to become someone important, someone worthy to be standing by her side_, his mind whispered.

He shook his head and went to stand in front of the mirror instead. He lifted the silver chain with the Ring and passed it around his neck. The chain was long and the Ring now hung low on his chest. He brushed it with his fingers and then his hand slid up to touch the half moon pendant. His fingers closed around the black chain on which it hung, and he started the motion of passing it over his head to take it off.

Mid-way there, he paused and stared hard at the pale stone. Finally, he let go of the chain and the pendant fell back against his skin.

There came a knock against the door.

He quickly buttoned up his shirt. "Yes?"

The door opened and Sam's head popped in. "Mr. Frodo, there you are! I was wondering whether you needed any help with packing."

Frodo smiled in amusement. "Sam, I'm a big lad. I do believe I can get my things ready by myself without too many incidents."

Sam ruffled his hair in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that… In any case, it's just that this whole new turn of events has left me on edge. Everyone around me is buzzing to get things ready for the long journey, which gives me a very unsettling feeling."

Frodo walked over to his gardener and clasped his shoulder. "I understand. It is hard to find a small moment of peace and quiet ever since the Council. But thank you for your decision to come with me, Sam."

Sam smiled widely. "I would never let you go into danger all by yourself, Mr. Frodo. You will need someone to cook you dinner in Mordor."

Frodo puffed. "If there is anything there that can be used for dinner."

Sam's face became serious. "But, Mr. Frodo, is the ninth member really _the_ Mr. Pippin?"

"You remember him?"

"I do! I never forgot about Mr. Pippin who used to come see us in Hobbiton every summer! That is, before he died of an animal attack."

Sam looked down. "If Mr. Pippin can turn into a wolf too now, that means that back then, the person who bit him was probably…"

"It was Allie," Frodo confirmed.

Sam's eyes shone in repulsion at that. "But that is…! Why would she do that? Does she not know how much pain and suffering Mr. Pippin's whole family have gone through? All of them, they have never truly recovered. Not even to this day."

Frodo sighed. "It's a complicated story, Sam. She did not do it on purpose."

Sam did not look too convinced. "I hope you can tell me the details one day, if you don't mind."

Frodo gave him a smile. "I believe there will be a lot of time for talking during our journey. I will fill you in as much as I can. It has happened a long time ago, so some details are not as sharp as I want them to be."

But those details were coming back to him more and more as of late. It must have been due to meeting Allie again.

"Oh yes, before I forget," Sam said as he tapped his fist against his palm, "it seems that Mr. Gandalf wanted to see you."

Frodo nodded and headed for the door. "I will go see him right now. He probably means to give me advice for the journey ahead."

He left his room and walked along the airy hallways of Elrond's house, greeting the Elves that he crossed on his way. Arriving in front of Gandalf's room, he saw that the big oak doors had been left ajar. Poking his head in, he called out softly: "Gandalf?"

Gandalf didn't answer, but he could hear sounds of conversation drifting out from the inside. He stepped in and looked around, and finally spotted Gandalf's grey shape standing on the balcony. Smiling, he meant to go to him, but paused in his tracks upon seeing who Gandalf was talking to.

"You need to do something about it," Allie was saying in an even voice, but there was no mistaking the angry undertone of her words.

Gandalf sighed. "I did not wish for this to happen either, but the decisions have all been made already."

"Then change them," Allie retorted, her grey eyes blazing. "I'm sure you can appoint someone else from the Fellowship."

"Who? Legolas? Gimli? You could not possibly be thinking of Boromir."

Allie blinked. "Maybe one of the other hobbits."

Gandalf heaved a deep sigh. "My dear Allie, Frodo has appointed himself for this task. It was his decision."

Frodo's heart started pounding hard in his chest. He crawled closer to the balcony and hid behind one of the tall chairs.

"And a foolish one!" she hammered. "He has no idea how dangerous this quest is. It is nothing like Bilbo's adventures, Gandalf. It was enough already to ask him to bring the Ring to Rivendell. One of the Nazgul almost stabbed him at Weathertop! He could have lost his life!"

Gandalf took support on his staff, looking old and weary. "You saw what happened at the Council. You saw the chaos that ensued. If Frodo had not spoken up then, things could have gone terribly wrong. Furthermore, by carrying the Ring this far already, he has shown extraordinary resilience to its dark powers. I do not wish to ask anymore of Frodo either. But he is our only hope now. There is no one else!"

At this, Allie could not help but to let anger shine openly in her eyes. "Such selfish words, Gandalf. You go everywhere spreading counsels, and yet you never do anything yourself. I know Frodo wanted to give the Ring to you in Bag End, but you shied away from the task and threw the burden back onto his shoulders!"

Gandalf's eyes widened and the corner of Allie's mouth rose up in a silent snarl. "No need to look so surprised," she continued quietly. "I know more than you think. Do not underestimate the wolves. If you had taken the Ring, Frodo would have never had to face all those dangers and would still be in the Shire! None of this would have happened!"

Gandalf gazed back at her darkly. "If you know so much, then you must also know that I am not incorruptible. It would have been even more dangerous to leave the Ring with me."

Allie was a bit taken aback at Gandalf confessing his weakness so readily. She was about to respond, when suddenly, she caught sight of Frodo hiding behind the chair inside the room. She bit back her words and froze.

Frodo saw that he had been spotted and came out into the open slowly, his face a mixture of different emotions.

Allie suddenly stomped out of the balcony in a flurry of blonde curls and headed for the exit.

"Allie…" Frodo reached out to her, but she pushed past him and fled the room.

Something fell from her pocket and landed on the floor in a tinkling sound. Frodo looked down, his eyes widening upon recognizing the half moon pendant on its silver chain. Bending down vividly, he snatched it up from the ground and looked in the direction she had disappeared into.

"Frodo…" Gandalf called out softly, but Frodo was already darting forward, running after her.

He caught up with her as she was dashing through the gardens. She was fast, but power of will made him run faster. He caught up with her and closed a hand around her arm, jerking her to a halt.

She looked at him with brimming eyes.

"Let go," she snarled.

"No!"

The sensation of his hand (so warm) on her bare skin was making her tremble. "I said, let go!"

"I have missed you!" he shouted firmly, his blue eyes bearing into hers. "Do you have any idea how much I have missed you? Not a day would pass that I would not think of you. Not a second that I did not unconsciously look for you, hoping to catch a glimpse of you in the world that you have left me in, a world that felt so unfamiliar without you in it! It's been twenty years Allie; do you have any idea how it is to live like that for twenty years?"

He drew her closer, and she followed his pull, helpless. "On the day we parted ways, we swore not to forget about each other. And you know better than anyone that I always keep my promises. I don't care if you keep your end of the deal or not, all I want is… all I want is to talk to you like before. You used to be my best friend, and the most important person to me. And I used to be yours. I know this is no longer true, but can we not get to know each other again? It is not because of the Ring that I left the Shire, Allie. I left it to come find you. And now I have, and I'm not going to let go."

His words were like a rainstorm, blowing away all her defenses. All traces of harshness had now receded from her features as she tried to shake him off and failed. All her strength was deserting her at this critical moment, and all her walls were crumbling. Frightened, she shook her head violently. "You don't understand," she mumbled.

Frodo seized her other hand as well. "Allie," he whispered softly but firmly. "Allie, look at me."

Helpless, she did as told. When she looked into Frodo's blue eyes, so full of raw emotions and tenderness and something else she could not name, all traces of resolve deserted her in an instant; and suddenly Frodo felt like he was looking once more at that little lass he used to know.

"Why have you been speaking as though you no longer care about the past? Why have you been trying to push me away?"

"You are misunderstanding..." she repeated weakly, unable to pull her eyes away from his."What I said to Gandalf, it was not out of concern..."

Frodo let go of one of her hands to plunge his hand inside his pocket, from where he snatched out her half moon pendant. Allie's breath got stolen away at the sight of it.

Frodo seized her hand and stuffed the pendant back into her limp fingers. "I don't think I have misunderstood anything."

Allie pressed her lips tight together as her quivering gaze took in his face.

"You can't fool me. Not anymore. You have not changed so much that I can't tell when you are not being truthful," he stated softly enough, but his words seemed to pierce through her with the loudness of thunder.

He put a hand on his shoulder. "I know you. I know you have missed the Shire, and your old friends. I know you have missed me."

She shook her head again, but tears started pooling in her eyes.

"You don't know anything," she let out brokenly.

And then suddenly, she was being pulled into his embrace as his arms wrapped around her. She could smell the faint scent of wild grass and smoking leaf on his clothes and skin, a scent she hadn't smelled for so long… a scent of home.

She could not remember the last time she had felt this devastated and shaken, as though her soul had been ripped out from her chest. She could not remember the last time she had felt so happy and yet so sad at the same time. As the tears rolled down her cheeks and a lump grew in her throat, she felt like a hobbit again.

Not a wolf, not a Queen, just a hobbit.

He had always been the only one who could make her feel that way, and she had missed that.

She had missed _him_ so terribly.

She wrapped her arms around him too and clenched hard at the shirt on his back. Frodo was silent, feeling deeply overwhelmed as he held her against his heart like he had longed to do since the day he had seen her sitting on top of those boulders, near the waterfall of Rivendell.

"Frodo," she whispered against his shoulder.

"Yes," he answered.

"Frodo," she simply repeated as hugged him tighter. She called out his name again, and again, as her tears soaked into the fabric of his shirt.

"I'm here," he reassured her. "I'm right here."

He brushed one hand through her hair soothingly.

They stayed like this for long minutes, until finally they put some space in between them to stare at each other's faces.

"Don't go," she begged pleadingly, her grey eyes teary. "Please, don't go on the quest. You don't know what you are up against."

Smiling sadly, he cupped her face in his hands gently and simply said: "I know. But I must. I have made a promise in front of all the free people of Middle Earth; I have made an oath, and I cannot go back on my word."

She gave him a wobbly smile. "You silly hobbit, you have not changed."

"Come with me," he said simply, looking at her with brimming eyes. "I do not wish to part from you anymore, so won't you come with me?"

She wanted to say yes; she wanted to say yes with all her heart, but suddenly Elrond's warning was flashing at the back of her mind, troubling her.

"You have to forgive me," Frodo started sadly when she remained silent, "for I know how selfish a request this is, but I can't help but to make it nonetheless."

Slowly, she shook her head. "I am the one being selfish, Frodo. If only you knew the truth… then perhaps…" she bit her lip.

She had meant to tell him the truth about her future to make him give up on her, but now, she couldn't bring herself to even form the words in her mind. In fact, just thinking of it suddenly terrified her.

Confusion painted itself on Frodo's traits, and he raised her chin gently with two fingers. "Allie, what do you mean? Tell me!"

However, Allie refused to say anymore, and Frodo decided not to push it. She still had walls around her, he could see that, but he would get to her eventually, like he always did. He knew she would tell him when she was ready.

So he simply hugged her again and Allie let him.

And thus caught in each other, none of them noticed Sam turning away from the scene with a troubled expression on his face from a few feet away.

* * *

_AN: Well, since I'm only updating once per week now due to my other activities, I'm trying to post long chapters instead. And honestly, it's hard to find the time to write these days, but I will still do my best to keep the updates coming on a weekly basis. Thanks for reading!_

**1945:** I believe most of your questions have been answered in this chapter :D Yes, she did change, but perhaps not so much where it concerns Frodo, heh :) Thanks for the review! I love it!

**gemma:** hey there! Thanks so much for reading and liking this story! :D Yeah, Allie and Pippin are both ruthless wolves now lol, but deep down they will always have the heart of a hobbit :)

**BritneyandArchieForever:** Wow thank you so much! :) I hope chapter 32 was up to par as well ;D I'm always really happy when I hear from new readers. I hope you will give me your input in the future as well :)

**Mallory:** Hey! No worries about posting the reviews on time :) I have engagements in the "real world" too so I understand perfectly well what you mean. You've more than made up for your late comment by telling me about your fist pumping in the car though. That seriously made me LOL, and it's so, so awesome! haha. Any fist pumping moments in this chapter? :p Ok onto more serious matters, well a lot of your questions were probably answered in this chapter. She's basically trying to do what she thinks it's best for him. As you can see, she remembers him perfectly, perhaps even better than he remembers her, because she got to see glimpses of him throughout the years via the wolves she sent to get news of him (or to stalk him :p). Yes, Alyssa and Aragorn's relationship will be revealed more in the next chapter. I love Aragorn's character, and that just gives me an excuse to write more about him. Awww haha that's ok if you saw Alyssa's rescue coming at Weathertop. It's probably a little bit easier to foresee what happens now in the story since well... it's based on a script that you readers are more than familiar with :p There will be slight alternations though, especially later on. But anyway, I had to make Allie save him at Weathertop. I just had to. Poor Frodo getting stabbed so early on, that's just not right :( . Lol, and you got your wish about Pippin saying that infamous line at the Council. I had this chapter written down before I read your review so I was like..."oh! someone's gonna be happy!" lol. And about "dark Sam", it's merely just an idea, and I might just stick to his good image after all. I don't know yet. But by dark, I didn't mean servant of Sauron dark lol, but I meant the Sam who threatened gollum on the Stairs leading to Shelob's cave. I thought that was SO awesome and I cheered for him then. aww Sam's speech is the best speech of the whole movie! I know it by heart :) Anyway, so just leave me comments whenever you can. Thanks again for reading this story and writing your awesome novel length reviews :D


	33. The Cave of Lilacs

**The Cave of Lilacs**

Allie knocked on the door.

"Enter," Elrond's voice said.

The hobbit pushed open the double doors and set foot in Elrond's private quarters. She was surprised to spot Gandalf sitting in the corner as well, his grey robes almost confounding him with the traces of night that still lingered in the candle-lit room.

One glance at the Wizard told her of the reason for which she had been called, and her posture became defensive even before Elrond opened his mouth to say: "Gandalf has presently informed me of your previous relationship to the Ring-bearer."

Allie glared at Gandalf, but the latter simply looked back in benevolence.

Elrond was now rubbing circles in his forehead wearily. "Are you planning to travel with the Fellowship?"

"I did not intend to at first, but now I am thinking of it," she replied.

"You should reconsider," Elrond said. "Have you forgotten what I have told you about the Ring of power? I can dispense all the counsels in the world, but they will be for naught if you do not listen to them."

Her eyes were determined when she declared: "I am willing to take the risk. He might need my help throughout his journey."

"At what price?" Elrond countered.

"It matters not. What we both fear is bound to happen sooner or later; therefore I have decided to make the most out of the time I have left as I am right now."

Elrond went to her, and worry was clearly written on his face. "Allie."

She looked up, for it wasn't often that he called by her name. "Have you forgotten how much pain and hardship you have gone through to still retain your hobbit form to this day? Are you going to throw it all away?"

"What point is there to live a couple of more years as a hobbit if the person I am doing this for dies during this quest?" she retorted firmly. "I will accompany Frodo. I have made up my mind. Also, you don't know for sure that being in presence of the Ring will accelerate my transformation."

A silence fell after her words.

"I have foreseen it," Elrond finally declared somberly.

"Not everything you foresee comes to pass," she answered.

Elrond sighed and walked away, his robes trailing lightly behind him. "I do not have anything more to say. If you must go, then go."

Allie bowed to Elrond's back and meant to retreat out of the room when her eyes caught sight of Gandalf, who had remained silent throughout the entire exchange. After a second of hesitation, she turned towards the Wizard, struggling to find the right words.

Finally, she said: "Gandalf, I am truly sorry for my words the other day. I spoke out of anger and I wish there was a way to take them back. I know that you were, and will always be, thinking of the greater good. I think I was merely angry at myself, at my own cowardice. Since the day I first met Frodo again here in Rivendell, I dared not approach him out of… I don't even know out of what, exactly. But now one thing is finally clear: as a hobbit or as a wolf, I simply want to be by Frodo's side and to keep him safe, and that I shall do to the best of my abilities. I swear."

Gandalf addressed a warm smile in her direction. "My dear Allie, you are not a coward. On the contrary, your decision is quite admirable. And I did not take your words at heart either; I knew you were only worried for Frodo."

Allie flashed him a grateful smile. "I know I'm late in telling you this, but it's good to see you again after all these years. I'm glad you reached Rivendell safe and sound after Saruman's treachery. You managed to escape unscathed."

Gandalf's eyebrows furrowed. "Unscathed perhaps… but my heart is now full of unease."

"At least we have a purpose now, and people willing to fight this fight together."

Gandalf smiled. "You are right in that."

Allie then made to leave, but on second thought turned around and added quietly: "One more thing: don't tell Frodo of my fate."

Gandalf simply nodded, but Elrond turned to face her vividly and his usually neutral eyes were presently filled with emotion. He came to her side and looked down at her with evident worry. "Even if it was for a short while, I have raised you as though you were my own kind. Both you and Arwen are acting so rashly, and my heart ardently wishes both of you would choose different paths. But if your heart tells you to go, then I will not hinder you. I will not tell anything to the Ring-bearer, but you have to know that he is bound to find out sooner or later."

"I will deal with it when the time comes. For now, I don't want to add to his troubles."

Elrond knelt down in front of her to be at her level and rested his hand on her shoulder. "Do think about yourself as well from time to time. Take care, and may the grace of the Valar be with you." He then deposited a light kiss on her forehead.

Allie smiled heartily at the Elf. "Thank you, Master Elrond, for everything you have done for me."

* * *

The sun piercing through the thin ethereal curtains made Frodo's eyelids twitch as he slowly slid from the realm of sleep into wakefulness. He took in a deep breath and rolled numerous times on the never-ending bed before his arm dangled off to one side. Cracking his eyes open sleepily, he stared at the soothing marble color of the sophisticated looking closet by his bed.

"When did Bilbo get this Elvish looking thing?" he muttered to himself before remembering where he was.

And as he did, the events from the day before unfolded in his mind in a tapestry of vivid images. Allie's delicate waist in his hand… Allie's grey eyes filled with emotions… Allie's scent as he had held her close.

Upon recalling all that, Frodo couldn't help smiling from ear to ear. He stood up on the bed and jumped on the soft mattress a few times, pumping his fist in the air in silent glee. Then, he changed into the set of travelling clothes he had been wearing since Hobbiton and quickly left his room.

He crossed a few Elves and saluted them eagerly with a booming "good morning". The Elves generally responded in a more reserved manner. Frodo walked out into the gardens and breathed in deeply the early morning air filled with the scent of fresh grass and roses. There was dew upon the yellow leaves that twinkled under the warm sun.

Suddenly, he spotted a familiar figure sitting on a bench near one of the pavilions, enjoying the sun.

"Uncle Bilbo!" he called out heartily.

Bilbo stood up, taking support from his cane, as Frodo rushed to his side. The young hobbit was still not used to Bilbo's new wrinkled appearance. It had been such a shock to see him age so much all of a sudden. The Bilbo Frodo had always known was stout and vigorous, and yet now he looked so frail as though a breeze could blow him away.

Bilbo motioned at Frodo to come to his quarters with a gleam in his eye. Frodo followed without questioning, merely content to be walking by his side once more.

"I heard about your bravery during the Council", Bilbo said with a proud smile. "You are a true Baggins, there is no mistaken that."

"Yes… I just hope it was the right thing to do."

Bilbo turned to look at his nephew upon detecting the note of melancholy in his voice. Frodo gazed back and then smiled softly. "Don't worry, Bilbo. I will set out on this adventure just like you once did. It will be there and back again."

Bilbo returned his smile in kind. "I hope so; I really do."

They were now in front of Bilbo's quarters, and Bilbo led him in eagerly, shutting the white painted doors behind him. Bilbo's room was spacious and well lit. The early morning sunlight made the white walls and the cozy looking furniture glow softly. Bilbo invited Frodo to take a seat, and then went to rummage inside his big travelling bag, from where he took out a leather scabbard, worn out and scratched.

Under Frodo's stunned eyes, he slid out an Elvish blade; it was polished and well tended and glittered cold and bright. "This is my old sword, Sting. Come on, take it."

Frodo reverently took the sword his uncle was offering him and marvelled at the lightness of it. "It almost doesn't weigh anything!"

"Yes, yes. Made by the Elves, you see. The blade glows blue when Orcs are close, and it's in times like that, my lad, that you have to be extra careful."

"Are you offering me this sword?"

Bilbo smiled dejectedly. "It is of no longer use to me. It will be better off in your hands."

Frodo seized the scabbard and sheathed the blade carefully. However, Bilbo was not done. He bent over and proceeded to take out a scintillating shirt from his bag as well. The shirt was encrusted with a delicate white material that looked like the enamels of an armour.

"This is Mithril," Bilbo explained giddily. "Such a pretty thing, isn't it? As light as a feather, but as hard as dragon scales. Let me see you put it on. Come on!"

Frodo smiled and started unbuttoning his shirt, just to indulge his uncle. After he was done with the fourth button, the Ring suddenly dangled out of his shirt, revealing itself resting on the bare skin of his chest. Bilbo's smile faded upon seeing it.

"Oh… that is my old Ring," he muttered.

There was now a glint in his uncle's eyes that made Frodo ill at ease. Frodo paused in his movements, hesitating to finish unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. Bilbo's eyes were now darting between Frodo's face and the Ring on the chain as he wet his lips nervously and wrung his hands.

"I would… very much like to hold it again, one last time."

Frodo was eyeing him worriedly. "Uncle, I don't think that's a very good idea…"

His words were cut short when Bilbo suddenly lunged forwards towards him, hand extending in a claw, intending the snatch the Ring off him. The suddenness of the movement made Frodo back away swiftly in alarm. A shadow seemed to have fallen between them, and in place of his uncle there now stood a vile looking creature with dark eyes and bony hands extended towards him. But then the illusion faded, leaving place to the Bilbo that Frodo had always known, looking diminished and weary as he suddenly slumped into a chair with a hand to his chest. Frodo quickly came to him upon seeing him falter.

"Uncle Bilbo! Are you all right?"

Bilbo's voice was thick with tears when he replied: "I understand now… that this is no mere Ring. I'm so sorry that I brought this upon you, my boy. I'm sorry that you have to carry this burden. I'm so sorry for everything..."

Frodo was distressed when Bilbo started sobbing in his hands. Slowly, he moved closer and then put a reassuring hand on his uncle's shoulder. He didn't really know what to say, so he remained silent, but Bilbo seemed to be comforted by his gesture nonetheless. He seized Frodo's hand and squeezed it hard. Frodo then put his other hand on top of his warmly. If only for his uncle's sake, he was now more determined than ever to see his quest to the end, no matter what perils he may face.

He looked out the window to the sun still in the process of rising in the east, but only a shadow of his earlier merriness remained within him.

Because of these events, he was deep in thought as he left Bilbo's quarters and walked among the trees of the valley of Rivendell. That was why he was surprised when Allie's voice suddenly resonated close to him, asking: "What is the matter?"

Frodo's head jerked up and he saw her walking steadily beside him with her hands behind her back and her grey eyes on his face. He had not heard her arrive at all. He wondered how long she had been there, but most importantly, he was glad that she had talked to him first. After all, they did have a meaningful moment the day before. He still did not know where their relationship now stood, but her talking to him again was a good start.

He gave her a smile. "I have just been to visit Uncle Bilbo. But it seems the Ring's hold on him is stronger than I thought. I wonder…"

He stopped walking, and she stopped too, just staring at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I wonder," Frodo pursued as his smile faded, "whether the Ring will affect me too. You know, eventually."

"It affects all of us. None is immune to its evil," Allie answered. "That's why I was against you being its bearer, Frodo. But what is done is done. And if I am being honest with myself, I have to admit that Gandalf was right: you are the least likely person to succumb to it. If you are the still the same hobbit I once knew, then I know you have a pure and untainted heart, and the brains to go with it too. If it's you, then there is hope for this quest." Her voice was soft, and he felt warmed up by her words.

She suddenly seemed to realize what she had said and quickly turned away and resumed walking. Frodo, now feeling much more optimistic, ran to catch up with her long strides, his scabbard banging against his leg at each step.

Allie saw it out of the corner of her eye.

"Is that a sword?"

"It used to belong to Bilbo. Its name is Sting. You might remember it from his tales…"

"I do."

She stopped walking and then suddenly turned around to face him in a flurry of blonde curls.

"Do you know how to use it?" she inquired, her eyes bearing into him.

Frodo shuffled awkwardly on his feet. "Not really. I have never had to wield one before."

Allie nodded in understand, and then drew out her own sword that always hung at her waist. Frodo stared it for a second, stunned, but her intentions were quite obvious. Slowly, he also drew Sting and held it in both hands.

"I'm not really sure…" he started.

But Allie cut him off by charging towards him, her grey eyes focused. Frodo lifted his blade in time to ward off her blow. Steel clashed against steel, its sound clear in the morning air, and then Frodo's sword flew out of his hands to land in the grass a few feet away.

Allie then swiveled her blade till it rested on his shoulder, close to the skin of his neck but not quite touching it. Frodo held his breath as he looked into her stormy eyes. Then, slowly, she lowered her weapon. "It's useless to possess a sword if you don't know how to wield it. Come, pick it up."

Frodo did as told, and then positioned himself in front of her again, his blue eyes firm. Allie studied him for a second, looking at his posture. Suddenly, she let her blade fall down in the grass and instead walked towards him, ignoring his confused expression. She positioned herself behind him, and then seized his hand and slid it lower down the hilt by a few centimeters.

Frodo shivered a little at her touch.

"Don't hold it so tightly in your hand," she instructed quietly. "Tighten your small finger and your forefinger, but let your middle finger rest on the hilt more lightly. Bend your elbow a little as well… yes, that's right. And now… lift the sword… and swing it down. Lift it… and swing it down. Only hold it tight with your whole hand when you intend to thrust it forward."

She seized his arm and mimicked the motion.

Frodo tried his best to remember what she was saying, but her being so close to him was making it very difficult for him to concentrate. Did her presence always use to make him this unsettled?

He took a deep breath and refocused on her voice once more. This was an important lesson after all.

After a while, Allie broke contact with him and went back to pick up her own sword.

"Let's try again," she suggested.

Frodo breathed in deeply to relax himself and planted his feet firmly on the ground, his eyes full of resolve as he waited for her to attack. She allowed herself a small smile upon seeing his serious expression, and then she dashed towards him again, her sword shining brightly under the early sun. Frodo clenched his teeth and raised his blade to meet hers. This time, he kept his hold on the hilt and used all his strength to press back. Grey eyes met blue ones from across their crossed blades, and then they were breaking away and going at each other again.

The second time, Frodo wasn't so lucky; he didn't manage to block her strike on time and found himself at the mercy of her blade once more.

Allie pulled back. "Again."

For hours, they battled it out in the morning air, their swords clashing, metal meeting metal in a dance of blades. As Frodo rushed forward with a cry, he suddenly had a flashback to when they were kids and were fighting quite like this, only back then they were using flour sticks and umbrellas instead of real swords as they chased each other down the tunnels of Bag End. She always loved to feint to the lower right, and then to attack him on his left instead.

His blue eyes flashed as Allie now charged towards him again, her blonde hair flying behind her. She feinted to the right, and then attacked left, but Frodo was ready for her there. Sting's blade sang as it met her silver blade and stopped it. Allie was surprised for half a second, but then she twirled on herself and then pointed her blade towards his exposed side.

"Better," she acknowledged with a nod.

But Frodo was now lifting his weapon up in defeat as he blinked away beads of sweat that were relentlessly rolling down his forehead and into his eyes. His hand was numb from enduring the shocks of Allie's sword, and he could barely feel the hilt in his hand anymore.

Allie saw this and backed away after sheathing her weapon. "That's enough for one day."

Frodo let go of the sword gratefully and then let himself sprawl down on the grass, chest heaving. After he had recuperated somewhat, he hoisted himself up on one elbow and saw her sitting on an earth hillock not far from where he was, lost in contemplation of the snow capped mountains towering over the valley.

He watched her for a long time, feeling enraptured at every new detail he noticed about her: how her hair was not as wild as it used to be, for it was longer and made the curls cascade down her shoulders, framing her face; how she still liked to sit with her right arm resting on her right bent knee; how she still had the habit to hold a blade of grass in between her teeth; how her eyes looked so clear when she was deep in thought like this.

"Glor Bereth," he called out softly.

The blade of grass dropped from her mouth as she turned to look at him. He felt himself shiver. Nobody else had this effect on him; being able to disarm him so completely with a simple gaze.

"What?" she asked, a little surprised.

"Glor Bereth… that is what Lord Elrond called you. It is fitting for you."

She looked upon him with interest. "You know what it means?"

"Oh, Bilbo has taught me some Elvish. I don't understand everything, but I can half follow a conversation. Your name means Golden Queen, doesn't it?"

She nodded once. "It is too pretty a name for me, though."

"It fits you," Frodo said.

Allie looked away and nervously pinned a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling a bit flustered all of a sudden.

"Thank you for teaching me today," Frodo said as he stood up and dusted the grass off his pants.

"Thank me when you manage to disarm me at least once."

"Does this mean our lessons will continue?" he asked with a hopeful smile.

"I have decided to set out with the Fellowship, and to travel with you, at least for awhile. The rest of my pack are scattered further south, and I was planning to go join them anyway."

Frodo jumped up on his feet at this news and came to sit beside her with an exultant smile on his face. "Really? I'm glad you have made up your mind!"

"Does it make you that happy?"

"Of course!" he exclaimed with a smile that seemed to brighten the day. Then, he cleared his throat and added in a more subdued voice. "I mean, you and I, we are old friends. So many things must have happened in the last couple of years. I remember you have always been a good story-teller. There must be so much you could tell me now."

Allie watched him for a moment, trying to wrap his words around her mind. She did love to tell stories. It used to be a skill she was good at. How had she forgotten that?

Frodo wasn't sure how he should interpret her silence, so he decided to change topics: "Have you been to see my uncle yet?"

Allie's face fell a little. "No. I wouldn't know what to say." She frowned in confusion. "Did he really leave me half of his possessions? When you told me that the first time, I thought it couldn't be true."

"But it is," Frodo affirmed. "I saw his will; it's clearly written there. Besides, what you said before, about being glad that Bilbo let you go, it wasn't true, was it?"

She remained silent, but the way she played with a pan of her shirt betrayed the truth. Frodo then realized with a jolt that he was starting to be able to read her again; not yet the way he could back when they were kids, but better than when he had first seen her. That was an encouraging realization.

"I wouldn't know what to say if I saw him again…" she let out.

Frodo smiled warmly. "Allie, he will be so glad to just set eyes upon you once more after so long. I bet he will do all the talking and you won't need to say a thing. Besides, he has been feeling down lately, so I am sure seeing you again will lift his spirits greatly."

Allie flashed him a tentative smile. "In that case, I will go visit him before we depart."

Frodo nodded in approval.

After that, they sat for a moment in peaceful silence and let the wind cool down their sweat.

"So this is where you were all along? In Rivendell?" Frodo broke the silence, looking around at the landscape.

Allie nodded. "Only at first."

He thought she would not say anything more, but she surprised him.

"Gandalf brought me here at first and explained my situation to Master Elrond, who is wise about matters of the world and knew of the existence of my kin," she spoke quietly. "Elrond accepted to take me in, and I lived here for a few years. I could see that the Elves were curious about me, but they never asked me to tell them anything I did not wish to tell. I felt comfortable in their company, and also made friends with Arwen, who is Elrond's daughter and who went to save you from the Nazgul."

Her eyes became distant as she recalled those events from the past, and Frodo sat back more comfortably as he listened.

"At that time," she pursued, "the situation of my pack was dire. Because of our impromptu battle with those of the North Moors, our numbers had dwindled considerably. In addition to me and the core of my pack, there were only about thirty wolves still alive. I still remember Informant's ire at the situation – she smiled wryly – he chastised me for a long time, but I told him the only thing we had left then was revenge. Revenge for killing so many of us, and revenge for… for taking you hostage. And it is for that reason that I left Rivendell."

Frodo simply nodded, encouraging her to continue, and so she did, with her hands crossed on her lap: "It was a dark time for all of us. I had to learn to be brutal and cunning, to be merciless, for I knew no mercy shall be granted to me by my enemies. We were at war at each other for many winters, until finally I managed to kill the Queen of the North Moors after sneaking into their own territory. After the assimilation of her pack to ours, our numbers finally reached beyond one hundred once more."

"But I knew I could not stop there. There were numerous other packs out there, some close to the Shire, others further away, but I saw all of them as potential future threats if left alone. I consulted Councillor about my enterprise, and he said it was dangerous, but that he was willing to respect my decision. And so, I decided to fight. And to kill."

She looked at Frodo once more, and opened her mouth a little, as though hesitating to say the next words, but Frodo's gentle gaze persuaded her. "Informant was thrilled that my ambition and my wolf nature were finally kicking in, but that's not the truth. The truth is that… I wanted to honor the promise that I made to you, Frodo, all those years ago. The promise that I would become stronger, and that I would never let other wolves hurt you, or the other people I cared about, ever again. So I chose the path of war. I openly attacked the other packs, and I killed their Queens to assimilate their wolves to my pack. A lot of blood was spilled, and I killed hundreds with these fangs of mine; but I had a purpose, and nothing made me deviate from my path. They called me the Golden Terror, which is probably more fitting for me than Glor Bereth. All the remaining Queens feared me and my ever growing pack, and some begged me to spare them. But I did not. Once in my earlier years as Queen, I had spared another Queen, but once I had turned my back to her, she attacked me and would have killed me, if not for Hunter's protection. From that day on, I have decided to no longer be swayed by feelings of pity."

She turned away, clearly shaken for a minute, before she regained her composure.

"After the assimilation of all nearby packs was done, I pushed South and continued my journey unto unknown lands. It is during one of those expeditions that I came upon Aragorn, or Strider as you know him. We mistrusted each other at first, for one of his Rangers shot one of my wolves, and a battle almost broke out. However, upon talking to him, I managed to persuade him that we were no enemy of his and we were not interested in spilling blood needlessly with the race of Men. He agreed with my words, and later I learned that he was also travelling South, seeking to gain knowledge about the approaching Shadow from the land of Mordor. We decided to journey together for a while, and faced many perils. I was surprised to learn that he was an acquaintance of Gandalf, and that he also used to reside in Rivendell. It seemed we had much in common, and I suppose we became friends because of that. I never thought the day would come when I would trust a Man, but Aragorn is different from the rest. As you know, he is the last of his bloodline, and his fate is much bigger than anything we can envision."

"Throughout my whole journey, I always left wolves around the Shire, for it was part of my territory. My wolves would report pack affairs to me, but sometimes, they would also speak of you."

She looked away a bit at this. "I suppose they knew what was on my mind because of the Blood link we share. In any case, they would tell me tidbits about how you were doing. Knowing that you led a peaceful and happy life has always been comforting to me."

Frodo sat up a little straighter at this.

"One day, one of them suddenly informed me that Bilbo had left the Shire again. I was worried that trouble might be stirring, so I parted ways with Aragorn and headed back to the Shire as fast as I could. Two weeks later, I was surprised to see Aragorn coming towards the Shire as well. He told me he had met with Gandalf, and the latter had told him the One Ring had been found, that it had been in Bilbo's possession all along! Imagine my surprise at that! That golden Ring of his… all those years in Bag End…! Anyway, after that, Aragorn and I kept watch over you, and followed you after you left home. The rest, you know."

There was a moment of silence when she finished her tale.

"I thought you had forgotten about me," he admitted quietly.

She felt a small pinch to her heart at that. "We made a promise back then," was all she said.

"Don't forget," Frodo recalled as a knot unexpectedly formed in his throat.

"Don't forget," Allie repeated softly.

"You said the wolves have told you about me over the years," he continued. "What kind of news? I must say I have stories of my own now, so I'm curious to hear about what you know already."

She shrugged. "Just bits and pieces. I know you have your own smoking-pipe now, just like Bilbo."

Frodo laughed at this, and took it out of his pocket to show it to her. She twirled it curiously between her fingers and then sniffed at it carefully. That was the smell that she had sensed when he had hugged her the day before, the smell that she had immediately associated with the image of home.

She returned the pipe to him and continued: "I also know that you are still friends with Rosie. I miss her sometimes. She always had such a bright personality. Also, I know that Merry is planning to succeed his father as Master of Buckland. And I know that you and Sam made a snowman taller than Bag-End on Yule, two years ago."

Frodo's eyes were crinkling merrily. "Yes, that is true! But it was not without incidents. The bottom part crumbled on poor Sam, and I had to literally dig him out of the snow." He turned towards her and saw a small smile playing on her lips. Feeling excited, he urged her: "What else do you know?"

She thought about it. "I know that Sam brought a puppy to Marigold. She has always wanted a dog, hasn't she? You and she taught the dog how to sit, lie down, and give the paw."

She looked over at him and saw that he was no longer smiling. Instead, he was staring down at his lap with a disconcerted look on his face.

"Frodo?"

He looked up at her and studied her face. "You know about Marigold and I."

It was not a question.

She fiddled with the scabbard of her sword. "She must be waiting for you back in the Shire. It's another reason why you have to come back alive from this Quest, Frodo."

Frodo didn't answer. His heart had started thumping evenly as he thought of Marigold for the first time in a long time.

Marigold and her liveliness, her gentleness, her laughing hazel eyes. Every time she looked at him, he could tell how much she loved him, but at the back of his mind, he had always felt a pinch of guilt, because he loved her too, but it was a different kind of love.

He had started seeing her five years ago, when they had held a gathering at the Green Dragon for his birthday. Merry, Berilac, Fatty, Folco, Rosie and Marigold had all been there, and many pints of beer had been served. As he danced with Marigold, suddenly she had wrapped her arms around his neck and had kissed him on the mouth. He had been so surprised that he had not pulled back.

All their friends had applauded them, and Marigold looked so happy with her cheeks flushed red that he just smiled back at her wordlessly. And so it had begun for them. In truth, being with Marigold was not hard, for he knew her well since they were children. Over the years, he had tried reciprocating her love until he thought he had succeeded.

But there had always been something missing. Back then, he was aware of it unconsciously, but now he knew exactly what it was.

After seeing Allie on top of those rocks, surrounded by wolves, he finally knew what was missing, for then it wasn't missing anymore.

It was the thumping of his heart as though it wanted to break free of his chest; it was the rush of heat; it was the pain of longing; it was the click that happens when one finds the last missing piece of a wide puzzle game.

He suddenly realized he should have told Marigold the truth before leaving home, because he didn't want to do something that would be unfair to her, that would hurt her. But now, as he looked at the hobbit lass sitting next to him on that hillock, he made up his mind.

"About Marigold..." he started.

But Allie shook her head. "Frodo, you don't need to explain yourself to me."

Frodo grabbed her hand hard, cutting her off as his blue eyes riveted on hers. "No, I do! I want to. This is very important to me, and I really wish there was no misunderstanding between us. Will you hear me out?"

Puzzled, Allie could only nod.

"After you left," Frodo started quietly, "I remember how lonely I felt. Lonelier, somehow, than when my parents passed away. I tried to go back to living a normal life, but how do you truly go back to being normal after having experienced the kind of things that I had experienced with you? But then time passed, a lot of time really, and our childhood together became just another memory, albeit one that I held more dearly than others. Marigold and I began seeing each other a couple of years ago. Everyone around us always assumed we would be together ever since we were little, so one day, it just happened. I let it happen, because I do love her as a sister and I wanted to make her happy. But now... - he ruffled his hair with his other hand - Now, call me selfish Allie, but after seeing you, I knew that how I felt about you… how I still feel about you, has not changed."

Allie was stunned by the ardent light in his eyes, by the words he was uttering, by his hand on hers.

"What are you saying?" she whispered.

Frodo took in a deep breath. "I'm saying…"

"Frodo," she cut him off again with a pounding heart, suddenly scared of what he was going to say. "If you choose me, there will be hardship and there will be pain. I am no Elf, but even I can foresee this."

"Why?" he countered. "Because you are also a wolf? I have told you long ago that I only see you as Allie. I accept you, all of you. Even now!"

She looked up at him helplessly and couldn't find the way nor the will to tell him it was because she was to lose her hobbit form. He could not choose her, for his own sake.

"How about you?" he asked more quietly. "Can you accept me? I'm not like you. I am just a hobbit. I don't have much strength nor skills with a blade. I don't always know how to make the best decisions."

She shook her head fiercely. "Never say that, Frodo! A person with no strength would not have volunteered to become the Ring-bearer. You do have strength; a strength that comes from within you. And how can I not accept you? You are Frodo. Being you is more than enough," she finished quietly.

"Then, won't you give me a smile?"

She seemed stunned at this, and he smiled widely at her. "Like this. Give me a real smile."

Slowly, the corners of her mouth curved upwards.

Frodo looked at her reprovingly. "You can do better than this, surely?" He widened his own smile. "Like this."

She felt herself getting flustered again, and she tried to make her cheeks work, but the muscles there seemed stiff all of a sudden.

Suddenly, Frodo reached forward and pinched her cheeks to pull them upwards, stretching her lips. He stared at her dumbfounded expression for a second before bursting out laughing. She frowned and swatted his hands away as she massaged her cheeks moodily. "Buggers, I forgot what a rascal you can be," she mumbled.

Frodo's eyes widened. "What did you just call me?"

She paused for a second and then let out blankly: "A rascal."

He never thought being called a rascal could make him so happy. His eyes were crinkling when he replied: "And you, Allie, you are still a brat. More grown-up perhaps, but still a brat."

She frowned at him at first, but the lines on her forehead progressively dissolved upon meeting his laughing gaze. She shook her head at him, but a smile finally came upon her face.

Frodo gaped. "You smiled! A real smile! I knew you could do it!"

Out of an old habit, he reached out a hand and patted her head. "Now you should practice it. After all, the brat that I used to know was good at displaying wonderful smiles."

As she peeked up at him from underneath his hand placed upon her head, her heart suddenly remembered him more than her mind ever could. She could not believe it had taken so little for her to feel this way again. First, his words from the day before, and now the reassuring weight of his hand on top of her head; everything about him was making her tremble again with this indescribable feeling she had felt towards him as a young lass.

They heard footsteps accompanied by the sound of tissue brushing against bushes. Frodo pulled his hand away as she turned to look in direction of the sound. A second later, Merry and Pippin appeared in front of the earth hillock on which they were sitting, laughing as they conversed about something.

Allie felt a point of nostalgia trickle down her chest upon seeing Pippin laugh so merrily; he hadn't laughed like that for years.

"Frodo! Allie!" Pippin exclaimed upon seeing them.

When Allie met Merry's eyes, she gave him a small smile that he returned with double the intensity.

"Come! Lunch should be ready by now!" he announced happily.

Allie and Frodo rose to follow after them. As they walked together, the four of them, she couldn't help feeling as though she had been thrown back into the life she used to have as a child. It had been the kind of life that she had hoped to live until the day she died. It had been a good life.

And now she could live that life again, if she allowed herself to, at least until her days as a hobbit were spent.

But was that truly fair to Frodo and Merry? Was it really all right for her to form such bonds with them once more?

* * *

The day before their departure, Allie stood uncertainly in the front of the doors to Bilbo's quarter. Before knocking on the door, she first peered inside from the window and saw the old hobbit dozing off on a chair with a book on his lap. She watched him tenderly for long minutes and was reluctant to disturb him, but if she didn't go to see him now, she would not get the chance again.

And so she went back to the door and knocked on it twice. A scrambling sound rose from the inside as Bilbo snapped back into awareness, and then he groaned and murmured: "It is open."

Allie took a deep breath before quietly pushing the door open and stepping in.

Bilbo was expecting Frodo, or Gandalf, or one of the Elves, but his wrinkled eyes widened when he set eyes upon the hobbit with rippling blonde hair and penetrating grey eyes. She was familiar to him; but his mind dared not go there.

"Uncle Bilbo," she called out softly, feeling a lump grow in her throat.

Bilbo's eyes filled with wonder. "Oh," he simply heaved. "oh…"

Shakily, he walked towards her, his cane forgotten by the side of his chair. Allie walked to meet him, and when she was close enough, she seized the old hobbit by the arms. At her touch, Bilbo drew in a sharp breath.

"Allie… is that you? Is that really you?"

"Yes, Uncle Bilbo. It's me," she answered softly.

Bilbo raised a shaky hand to her face and touched her cheek, speechless. Allie leaned into his touch and smiled contentedly.

"My dear lass… you have grown up so well," Bilbo said with emotion. "I dared not hope to ever see you again, but here you are in front of me! I am so glad! Oh my heart is elated! Now I can die in peace!"

"Do not speak of dying yet, Bilbo. You still have many long years to live."

Bilbo pressed his lips together and pulled her close to him. Allie wrapped her arms around the old hobbit and hugged him tight. She squeezed her eyes shut and a few tears rolled out. Bilbo, just like Frodo, also smelled like home. Bilbo petted her hair in silence for long minutes, and Allie felt like a kid again, being hugged this way by the hobbit who had raised her.

"I missed you so much, Bilbo," she let out in a whisper. "I miss Bag End. Some days I strongly wish I could be back there again, living with you and Frodo without a care in the world."

"And so do I, my girl. So do I. I didn't realize how fond I had grown of you till the day you left. But you can return to Bag End anytime. It is yours too now, as it is Frodo's. Bag End will always be your home."

She pressed her face against Bilbo's shoulder. "Thank you, Bilbo. Now I know I will always have a place to return to."

Bilbo seized her by the shoulders to peer up into her face again in amazement.

Allie smiled and said: "I am so glad I came to see you before I depart."

"Depart?" Bilbo inquired. "Are you leaving with Frodo?"

She nodded softly, and Bilbo's traits brightened. "Oh that is wonderful! Wonderful indeed. I was worried about that lad setting out into the unknown, but my heart is at ease now that I know he will bring a true friend with him."

Giddily, he took her hand and guided her to a chair. "Sit down, my lass. Sit down and tell me how you have lived all these years! I would very much like to catch up with you before you set out on your adventure."

And so for the next hours or so, Allie and Bilbo were deep in conversation. And finally, when Allie was in the middle of recounting one of her adventures with Aragorn (or Dunadan as Bilbo called him), the old hobbit's eyes finally fluttered closed as slumber gained him over. Allie smiled tenderly and then fetched a blanket that she carefully draped around his figure.

"Farewell uncle Bilbo," she whispered. "I don't know when will be the next time that I will see you again, if I ever will, but until then, take good care."

She touched his hand lightly and the old hobbit moaned something in his sleep but did not wake up.

She quietly left the room and clicked the door shut behind her.

Afterwards, she slowly strolled about to one of the pavilions where she saw Boromir standing there looking at the gardens.

"Good morning. We meet again," she greeted.

"Good morning!" Boromir exclaimed upon seeing her. "I did not see you at the Council."

"I heard what has been said."

Boromir dropped his voice to ask: "So what are your thoughts on this crazy enterprise of ours?"

"It is a fool's quest," she answered sincerely. "But it is our best hope at this point."

Boromir was pensive as he reported his attention on the yellowing leaves.

"You said a dream prompted you to come here," she stated as she remembered their first conversation. "I have never given much importance to dreams before, but it seems that you have some ability that is not so different from the foresight of the Elves."

"In fact, my brother Faramir had the dream first," Boromir confessed. "And he has a gift as far as dreams are concerned. It might be because of his long talks with Mithrandir, or Gandalf as you call him. My father is not very fond of the Wizard, and even less fond of the fact that Faramir is spending so much time with him learning about the world as the Wizard sees it. However, when he got wind of Faramir's dream, which later visited me as well, he was adamant that I came here to gather information on Isildur's Bane."

Boromir paused, surprised at what he was revealing to a mere stranger, but the light of sincere interest in Allie's eyes put him at ease again.

"Gondor, the White City," she whispered. "I have seen it from afar once, and I would like to visit it one day, if I get the chance."

"You have been to as far a land as Gondor?" Boromir wondered out loud. "I thought those of your kind were reluctant to journey out of their country."

Allie smiled up at him. "Most of them are indeed that way, but I am interested in the matters of the world. I have travelled, and am pretty familiar with the land in this part of Middle-earth."

Boromir watched her with a new light in his eyes. "You say some surprising things, little one. Will you not travel with the Fellowship? For I wish to learn more about your kin that I have until now merely glimpsed in dreams."

At this, she nodded. "I will be travelling with you for a while. And I would like to hear more about the White City as well."

Boromir's eyes brightened with love at the mention of his city, and he gave an enthusiastic clap. "Then the matter is settled. We set out tomorrow! I hope to see you then."

Allie gave him a courteous nod, and the man of Gondor nodded back, before marching away through the hallway of the pavilion in that heavy and proud gait of his.

Allie sat on the edge of the white stone of the pavilion and looked upon Rivendell once more, wondering if she was ever to see this valley again.

It was like this that Merry found her when he chanced upon her as he crossed the pavilion.

Allie heard him coming and looked up. Merry's eyes lit up when he spotted her and he came to her swiftly. "Allie, I was on my way to explore Rivendell for a bit before we have to depart. I am glad that I have run into you. Won't you show me around?"

She stood up from her bench. "With pleasure, Merry."

Merry pumped his fist excitedly in the air and followed her as she left the tall arch of the pavilions and engaged herself on a small and sinuous dirt trail leading into the high mountain cliffs.

As they left the courtyard of Elrond's House, they passed by a bridge suspended over the waterfalls. Merry gazed down in awe at the torrential waters flowing down into the river below and crashing on the rocks in an explosion of white foam.

After they left the bridge, they started walking leisurely along one of the streams, with the snow-capped mountains on their right. The trees bordering the water were few, but their branches charged with autumn leaves sang in a murmuring voice in the slight afternoon breeze.

The clouds moved over their heads with the wind, sometimes casting clear shadows of various shapes upon the grass on which they trod. Allie led Merry to a rocky slope and started climbing it. Merry climbed behind her, skipping a little on the white rocks with a huge grin on his face. They made their way upwards for some time, before reaching a high platform on the side of the mountain.

From there, they had a plunging view of the valley of Rivendell, with its soft green slopes and multiple waterfalls. A flock of birds flew by the waters below them before drawing a large circle and deviating upwards, towards the sun. A feeling of freedom engulfed Merry as he took in the view. He had never seen such a beautiful land.

"Allie, look! Elrond's House seems so small from here!" he looked back over his shoulder at her and saw her standing beside the wall of a green cave filled with vines and wild lilacs, looking upon him with a small smile on her lips.

She came to stand beside him and looked down as well. "I used to come here a lot when I first came to Rivendell."

Merry nodded emphatically. "You have always liked high places, I remember! It is like a painting, isn't it? A part of me has already grown fond of this place, and I have only been here for a couple of days!"

"Rivendell tends to have this effect on people," she agreed.

Then, she pointed to the cave with its shrubs of lilacs. "I have spent many nights lying here, just looking up at the stars. And the moon." Unconsciously, her hand rose to her chest to caress the contour of the half-moon under her suit.

Merry lifted both arms and stretched them over his head as he looked up at the blue skies. "Well, as beautiful as Rivendell is, I'm still more excited to start our adventure! I think this will be even more exciting than slaying a dragon!"

She wanted to caution him that it would be much more dangerous as well, but she did not wish to dampen that light of excitement in his eyes. "Have you never left the Shire before?" she asked.

Merry shrugged. "I have been to Bree, and I even ventured into the Old Forest once or twice, but nowhere farther than that."

"I suppose this will be a good chance for you to see the world, then."

He smiled toothily. "I heard from Frodo that you might be coming with us. I hope it is true! You have to tell me stories of what you have been up to all these years, and I have so much to tell you as well!"

As Merry began to tell her the story of the first time he ventured into the Old Forest, Allie couldn't help feeling that she and Merry had never ceased to be friends. Perhaps that was true. Perhaps the bonds of friendship she had formed with the other hobbits when she was a child were not all completely gone, as she had feared they were. She wondered how Berilac and Rosie were doing. Was Folco still so cautious? And Fatty so loving of food? She found herself missing all of them.

"If only you were there that day," Merry sighed as he finished his story, "then I might have found my way back faster from the Forest. Your sense of smell as a wolf would have guided me, surely!"

"Are you not scared of me?" she asked quietly.

Merry studied her carefully for a moment, taking in her questioning eyes. He had noticed that she was always firm and confident when she spoke to Strider and to the Elves, but an air of sadness and uncertainty often seemed to veil her gaze when she spoke to him and to his hobbit friends. He thought he understood why now.

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Why would I be scared of a lass I used to steal vegetables and swim in the pond with?" He laughed. "I am Meriadoc Brandybuck; I shall never be deterred by so little." He plucked a lilac flower from the shrub and planted it in her hair. "There, you look even more harmless now!"

She touched the flower with wide eyes.

Merry pointed a finger to her chest. "Sometimes, I think that you are scared of us instead. Why, last time I checked, hobbits don't bite. At least, not as hard as wolves." He gave her his best wolfish smile.

Allie smiled broadly at his words. "I'm not so sure about you, Merry. I think you could do some real damage if you wanted to."

Merry sighed. "What can I say? I am a Brandybuck. Some of my ancestors must have been warriors."

After that, as they headed back down from the headland and into the depths of the valley again, Allie felt a bit more like her old hobbit self as she reminisced past events with Merry. She was also a Brandybuck, after all. She had to be brave now, and face her uncertainties about her identity. Perhaps it was time to accept that she could be both: a hobbit and a wolf. Even if she could not retain her hobbit form, she would always be Allie on the inside.

As they followed the stream back to Elrond's House, they saw Frodo sitting under one of the trees with a book on his lap.

Merry sighed. "Sometimes, I don't know how Frodo does it. How can he be reading on such a day?"

She glanced back at him amusedly. "You certainly would not be able to do so. Just look at you now, shuffling from one foot to the other. You just can't stay still."

Merry forced his legs to stop moving. He was about to reply with a smart comment when Allie's eyes shone silver. Merry jolted back a bit in surprise. "Buggers! What did your eyes just do?"

She looked back apologetically. "I'm sorry. I just got a message from Pippin. He is looking for you."

Merry leaned close and examined her eyes, which had turned back to normal. He let out a whistle of wonder, and then said: "You must tell me how that works later. Where is Pippin now?"

"Close to your quarters inside Elrond's House," she informed him.

Merry waved her goodbye and walked away merrily along the stream. Allie's eyes followed him till he disappeared from view, and then she looked over at Frodo, who was now looking up from his book after hearing their voices.

"Is everything ready?" she asked him as she reached his level.

Frodo nodded as he shut his book close and stood up from the ground. "Everything is packed, if that is what you mean. But I don't think my heart is. I am getting quite nervous," he confessed.

Allie eyed the way his dark curls fell a little in his eyes and gave him an encouraging look.

"You will do just fine. Merry even thought you looked way too calm for the occasion."

"Calm? Me?" Frodo exclaimed. "No, I think my heart will burst if it beats any faster." He fumbled with the book. "Reading this is the only thing that has managed to take my mind off this matter."

As they started wandering back towards Elrond's House, following the stream, Frodo noticed the lilac flower in her wild blonde curls.

The light violet color contrasted nicely with her grey eyes, he thought.

"I like the flower in your hair," he complimented awkwardly.

She touched it lightly with a finger as her cheeks turned pink. "Thank you."

"Your hair is longer now than it used to be," he added as his finger tapped against the cover of his book.

She played with a strand of her hair. "Yes. I have cut it before, but it grows incredibly fast."

She eyed his profile, from his dark curls, to his eyes and the bridge of his nose, down to his feet. She slowed down her walking pace a bit. "You are tall for a hobbit," she remarked.

"So are you," he replied.

"Yes, but I don't live among other hobbits. It must be rare to see such as tall and comely hobbit such as you in the Shire."

Frodo couldn't help smiling widely at the word "comely". His heart was throbbing in his chest when he replied in a light tone: "And you, you are a pretty wolf Queen surrounded by hundreds of male wolves. I imagine you must have had your fair share of suitors?"

She paused to face him with scandalized eyes. "No! It doesn't work that way! None of them can become my mates! I mean… suitors..." She blushed furiously when he started laughing.

"Oh!" she groaned. "I forgot how infuriating you can be, Frodo Baggins."

Frodo was laughing so much that tears started squeezing out of his eyes. "You should have seen your expression," he managed to let out when he could draw in a breath.

She huffed and walked away, leaving him there to laugh to his heart's content.

"Hold on a second, Allie!"

He started sprinting after her, still letting out a chuckle now and then, when suddenly his foot got caught in a loose rock at the border of the stream, and he almost lost his balance. His brusque movement to regain his equilibrium made him drop his book, which landed in the water.

Letting out a cry, he quickly stepped inside the stream and fished it out with its pages dripping wet.

"Oh no!" he lamented.

Allie paused ahead of him and looked back. Seeing what had happened, she came back to him and discreetly planted a yellow leaf, that she had just picked up, in his dark curls. "See?" she exclaimed. "This is what happens when you say aggravating things!"

Frodo, however, was too distressed to mind her.

"This is my favourite book!" he exclaimed as he opened it frantically. His eyes filled with horror when he saw the water sinking into the pages, blurring the ink a little.

She peered at the cover and saw _Legends of Middle Earth _written on it. That rang a bell.

"We have to dry it!" she declared upon seeing his crestfallen face. "Help me pick up some small pebbles."

Frodo did as she said, and when they had handful, they rushed back to Elrond's House and to Frodo's quarters. Allie opened the window and was pleased to feel a breeze on her skin. That would help things.

She dragged a small table close to the window, placed the book vertically on the table and carefully separated the book's pages into thin sections that she kept separated with the help of the pebbles.

"The best way is to keep the book open and facing the breeze. It should dry eventually," she declared after she was done.

Frodo sat at the table to peer into the wet pages. "I hope so!"

Allie crouched down on the other side of the table, facing him, and stared at the cover of the old looking book. "Legends of Middle-earth. Bilbo gave you this for your birthday."

Their eyes met from above the book's rim.

"You remember that?" Frodo asked gently.

She nodded dreamily with her chin in her hands. "It seems like ages ago now, but I remember that I read you the passage concerning the Old Forest when you were sick."

Frodo gazed at her fondly from across the book, his eyes alight with a mixture of surprise and happiness.

"That is the reason why it is my favourite book," he admitted in a whisper.

Allie felt herself blush a little, and looked away from his eyes. She then saw the leaf still sticking out from his hair and chuckled.

"You laughed?" Frodo exclaimed in amazement. "This must be the first time since I have seen you! What is so funny?"

Allie laughed again. "Nothing."

"It's definitely something! Is it something I said?"

His head movements were making the leaf wiggle this way and that. She stuffed a fist in front of her mouth and suppressed another chuckle. Frodo's eyes filled with suspicion as he touched his face, suddenly wondering if he had something there.

His antics only made her burst out laughing clearly.

Frodo stood up. "Allie, you are impossible!" he said accusingly as he looked around for a mirror.

Still giggling, she came beside him and then uprooted the leaf from his hair. Frodo groaned. "You are still such a kid!"

"You started it, remember?" she retorted.

Frodo came towards her in a way that he wanted menacing, but she just raised an eyebrow and backed away to humor him. He pressured her until her back touched the wall.

"What are you going to do?" she countered tauntingly.

Frodo got closer, gazing at her seriously. Suddenly, he reached out a hand and tickled her. She was not expecting this,and doubled over and squirmed as she let out an involuntary squeal.

"Stop!" she laughed. "Stop!"

But Frodo was grinning wickedly now and was relentless. She clung to his shoulders and tried to push him away, but he pressed forward again.

"This will teach you to make fun of me!" he retorted mischievously.

Allie tripped him over with her foot in her attempt to escape, thus effectively destabilizing him. Frodo let go of her when he felt himself falling forwards, and pressed his hands on the wall on each side of her head to take support.

Because of this, they suddenly found their faces inches from each other's.

They both froze.

The smiles slowly vanished from their faces as they looked at each other, suddenly enraptured. For some reason, Allie's heart was now beating furiously in her chest, and the only intelligible thought in her head was how mesmerizing his eyes looked.

A sizzling energy sparkled from where their bodies touched.

"Allie."

The way he said her name left her breathless. Never had her name been spoken so gently or with such deep affection, as though it was something sweet.

"What?" she mouthed in an almost unintelligible voice.

Frodo eyed the lilac flower still caught in the wild curls that framed her face. Almost in spite of himself, he trailed his knuckles down the skin of her cheek.

He gazed at her beneath dark curls that fell a little in his eyes, which were so shockingly blue under his dark eyebrows. His nose was tall and thin, and descended to a pair of fine lips that seemed always ready to smile, although he was not smiling right now.

No, right now there was a delicious intensity to his handsome face. He was looking at her, looking _through_ her. Where his hand had brushed against her cheek, it still burned.

With sudden clarity, as though she were looking at the the bottom of a pond through crystal clear water, she knew that she was in love with him, had always been in love with him, even before she knew what love really was. And now, with every new look at him, with every new word he uttered, with every new action he took, he was making that love grow stronger.

This realization made her feel fragile, disarmed and naked in front of him, like a shabby house of cards in front of the rainstorm that Frodo represented. Feeling overcome, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall.

Frodo stared at her face for a long moment, amazed at the way her eyelashes cast gentle shadows on her rosy cheeks. Her lips were slightly parted as she leaned her head against the wall behind her. Inexorably drawn to her, Frodo tilted his head and leaned in.

The door to his room chose that moment to fly open and in stormed Pippin. "Frodo! Have you seen A…llie…"

At Pippin's voice, Allie's eyes snapped open. She found herself staring into Frodo's eyes from a proximity that she had never experienced. He was so close that his lips were almost brushing against hers. The same wondrous expression were on both of their faces as they found themselves unable to either pull away or look away even though Pippin was right there watching them.

"So-sorry!" Pippin stammered. "Carry on!"

Then he stepped out precipitously and shut the door behind him.

There were seconds of silence and stillness.

Then, Frodo suddenly pulled away from her and took in a deep breath as though he had just been under water. He turned his back to her and covered his mouth with one hand, staring hard at the ground. The implications of what had almost come to pass almost knocked him senseless.

Allie was heaving too, still leaning against the wall with a hand to her heart.

"I better go now," she said after she had regained some of her wits.

Then, she quickly fled the room. Frodo looked up when he heard the door closing, and only then did he twirl around to look at the empty wall against which she had been leaning a second ago.

"Pippin, you fool of a Took," was all he found to say into the empty room.

* * *

_AN: Well, well, I'm being nice and updating on a Wednesday again like I used to do haha. I hope you enjoyed! :)_

**1945:** haha yes I know! She's very stubborn, but at least there is some progress now! :p As an author, even I am getting impatient with her haha. I know it sounds weird, but the character of Allie along with her plight is forcing me to do things a certain way :p Anyway, thanks for your review and hope you liked this one :D

**BritneyandArchieForever:** hello again! thank you for liking it! :D Is Frodo your fave character from LOTR?

**pippa:** hey there! thanks for the comment! yaya poor Sam seemed pretty traumatized back there XD. More on his reaction in the next chapter (I believe), but yeah he must be thinking why Frodo is cheating on his sister :p


	34. Walking Song

**Walking Song**

Frodo sat up abruptly on his bed with his hair sticking out everywhere, and then grabbed his clothes from a nearby chair. He couldn't believe he had managed to sleep in on such an important day! The truth was that he had spent a good deal of the night turning and tossing, reliving that scene with Allie and unable to fall asleep. He must have barely gotten two hours of sleep that night, and now he knew he had a whole day of walking in front of him.

He was barely done clipping his travelling cape to his shoulders when the door burst open and Merry and Sam entered, already fully dressed and looking ready to go.

"Am I late?" Frodo asked as he combed his hands through his dark curls urgently.

Merry was amused. "You will be all right if you skip breakfast."

Frodo groaned. It was inhuman to ask a hobbit to skip any meal, let alone breakfast, but these were extraordinary circumstances. After all, today would be the day the Fellowship was to finally set out on their journey.

Frodo stuffed the mithril coat his uncle had given him in his travelling bag that he laced closed. Then, he seized the leather scabbard containing Sting and hung it around his waistline.

"Is everything ready?" Sam inquired.

Frodo groped the Ring around his neck. "Yes, Sam. I'm ready to go."

As they walked by the halls of Rivendell one last time, they crossed several Elves who all had grave expressions on their faces. They arrived in the courtyard where they were supposed to meet up, but only Legolas and Gimli were present at the actual time. The Elf and the Dwarf were not speaking to each other, but instead were examining their own weapons intensely and in moody silence as though they had never seen them before.

"Oh, it seems that we are early after all!" Merry then said.

"I skipped breakfast for nothing," Frodo grumbled.

Legolas looked up at the sound of his voice and gave him a small nod. Frodo nodded back with a slight smile.

"Good day, Mr. Baggins," Gimli also saluted him energetically.

"Please, just call me Frodo."

Gimli's smile was lost in his thick beard. "It is a strange thing. My father Gloin travelled with your Uncle Bilbo to the Lonely Mountain and back, and now, I am travelling to Mordor with his nephew. Hopefully back again, as well."

Frodo smiled. "I share your sentiment."

He then noticed that Merry was throwing glances around, and when he asked his friend what he was looking for, Merry answered quietly: "I wonder where Pippin is."

Merry shuffled closer and confided in a whisper: "I still can't believe he's the same Pippin who used to accompany me on all my crazy enterprises as a child. I can talk to him really easily, and I recognize some of his traits. But in the back of my mind, I keep thinking that he's supposed to be dead! So finding him again, alive and fearless, is really mind-boggling. Do you know what I mean?"

Frodo nodded softly. "Yes, very well."

Frodo's mind travelled to Allie for a second, to how she had changed and yet had traits that had remained the same.

Sam took out an apple from his bag and inserted it in Frodo's hand, snapping him back to reality. "Eat this, Mr. Frodo. It will be better than no breakfast at all."

Frodo smiled at his gardener, always so mindful and reliable, and thanked him as he took a bite.

At that moment, Boromir arrived as well, followed closely by Aragorn and Gandalf. Legolas immediately went to them and exchanged an amicable accolade with the Ranger. The two of them then started conversing quietly in Elvish. Gandalf came to stand in front of Frodo and smiled down softly upon him.

"Everything ready?"

"As ready as it can be."

Then came Elrond, Arwen and a company of Elves. Everybody saluted them solemnly. The only one that was missing was Pippin now.

"Where could he be?" Sam was wondering.

And then Boromir gasped beside them, for a large wolf suddenly emerged from the surrounding bushes and came to stand in front of the assembled people. Its auburn fur was shining glossily under the autumn sun.

Faster than the eye could register, Legolas loaded his bow with an arrow that he now pointed in direction of the wolf.

"Legolas!" Aragorn warned, and then lowered the arm of the Elf.

And then, under several pairs of flabbergasted eyes, the wolf seemed to shift, with its teeth shrinking back into human cheeks, its fur becoming hair, and its verterbrae shrinking and straightening until it became a normal spinal column. Finally, in its place now stood Pippin, his green eyes sparkling amusedly.

"What on earth is this?" Boromir exclaimed. "Am I caught in some enchantment?"

"This is no enchantment," Elrond announced. "I thought it be best if you know the true nature of the ninth companion who will be travelling with you. Peregrin here is one of the wolf-kin of old. Few now know of their existence in this world, for they have not meddled in the affairs of Men and Elves for a very long time."

"This is fascinating!" Boromir cried out, his eyes shining with a new fire. "I knew of the existence of wolves, but I thought they were mere animals with no intelligence. It's captivating that they are also partly human! And that they are shape-shifters!"

"Being able to transform is a privilege that only newly converted wolves possess," Pippin informed him.

However, Gimli was now eyeing him with suspicion. He and the rest of the Dwarves often had to fend off the attacks of wolves outside of the Misty Mountains and in his own hometown; in his eyes, Pippin now seemed an enemy that could not be trusted.

"Why was this withheld from us?" he grumbled. "We had a right to know this when he was appointed part of the Fellowship!"

"You don't need to worry," Pippin tried to pacify him. "I know wolves used to attack your kin in the region of the Misty Mountains, but those wolves are now under the command of my leader, and she is a friend of the Fellowship."

Gimli pulled on his beard relentlessly. It was true that there had been no problems with the wolves as of late, but still, he couldn't help the feeling of mistrust lodged deep inside his blood.

"The wolves I have encountered in Mirkwood have all been allies to Orcs," Legolas said as he lowered his bow. "But your appearance is different from that of those creatures. If you are truly on our side, your aid will be precious to us."

Gimli directed a dark glare in Legolas' direction and muttered something under his beard but didn't protest any further.

Since the matter of Pippin's nature was now settled, everyone returned their attention onto Elrond and his company of Elves.

Elrond's face was grave and yet solemn when he spoke: "The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest to Mount Doom. On you who travel with him, no oath nor bond is laid to go further that you will. Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessing of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you."

Frodo saw from the corner of his eye Aragorn and Arwen looking at each other intensely. There was sadness on both of their faces, and his heart reached out to them, for he understood what they were going through; that feeling of heartbreak at the thought of separation, he had lived that too so many years ago. At this thought, his gaze swept across the trees bordering the courtyard, wondering whether Allie would come out to set out with the Fellowship.

"The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer," Gandalf's voice pulled him out of his contemplation.

He was suddenly aware that everyone was now looking at him amiably, and he shyly stepped forward, his travelling cape billowing a little behind him. Addressing one last look to Elrond, who nodded to him softly, he turned his back on Rivendell and marched out of the courtyard. Every single Elf witnessing the scene was silent as, one after the other, the members of the Fellowship followed after Frodo. Aragorn was the last to leave. His eyes lingered upon Arwen's face painfully, before he nodded once in goodbye and snatched his eyes away from hers.

Arwen clasped her hands tighter in front of her and her eyes shone achingly, but otherwise her face remained impassive.

Upon leaving the courtyard, Frodo came upon the road carpeted with fallen leaves that stretched outside the doorstep of Rivendell. He slowed down and looked right and left tentatively. He was aware of Gandalf walking close behind him, and was about to ask him which way to go, when suddenly Allie stepped out of the bushes on his left.

She paused in the middle of the road with her eyes set on him. If she was still unsettled by what had happened between them the day before, she didn't let it show. Frodo stopped in front of her, but she was looking at the Fellowship standing behind him.

Gandalf, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, Merry, Pippin, Sam and Aragorn.

"Hello," she greeted them. "My name is Allie of the wolf-kin and leader of the West pack. I intend to travel east of the Misty Mountains to join others of my kin. May I travel with the Fellowship until I reach my destination?"

Aragorn was the one to answer: "I will be glad to be your travelling companion once more."

Allie smiled at the Ranger.

"Aye!" Boromir also said.

Gimli rolled his eyes. "More wolves," he grunted, but did not refuse.

Gandalf and Legolas simply nodded, while Merry and Pippin smiled at her widely. But Sam's face remained troubled.

Thus, the Fellowship then set out from Rivendell on that clear autumn's morning.

_This is it_, Frodo thought as he walked, _this is the journey to end all journeys. But at least I'm not alone._

* * *

Sam groaned as he repositioned his heavy backpack onto his shoulders. The Fellowship was now travelling through plains and small woods, towards the Misty Mountains that he could see erected so far away still, it seemed. In theory, Sam should have been ecstatic to be part of such a wondrous assembly of people and to be journeying towards unknown lands just like Mr. Bilbo, whom he admired deeply, had done. But somehow, his mood was at its lowest.

He eyed Merry and Pippin conversing joyfully with big hand gestures a few steps ahead of him; and even further ahead, walking behind Gandalf who was leading the way, marched Frodo and Allie. As far as he could see, they were not talking, but they were walking close to each other.

Allie sometimes walked with their Fellowship, especially when there were discussions about which better way to take, but more often than not, she was not with them. Every time Sam asked Frodo where she was, Frodo would smile a little and respond: "attending to wolf matters." Sam still didn't know how his Master could be so at ease with her nature, and with the fact that she had taken away Pippin's hobbit life. In Sam's eye, Pippin had had the perfect life before he became a wolf: he had a loving family, a grand home and a bright future as Thain of the Shire. To take all that away should have been a sin.

Frodo had tried to explain to him once why Allie had been forced to bite Pippin and how the rules of the pack worked, but Sam's mind couldn't really wrap itself around those complicated concepts. Protector, Blood, core of the pack… it was all beyond him. Or perhaps, it was simply because a part of him still was not willing to accept the reality and implications of what it all meant.

Presently, Gandalf finally signalled for them to pause for lunch. Merry eagerly went to gather firewood, and Pippin ran after him after becoming a wolf. Gimli was taken aback by the sudden transformation and groaned loudly as he dropped his plate, but most of the other members of the Fellowship paid the matter no heed, for they were already used to it. All except for the Dwarf, who still eyed her with suspicion. Sam had heard him ask Gandalf many times why she was allowed to come and go so easily.

"I might strike her down one night, thinking she is the enemy," he had grumbled.

"She would be three yards away before your axe falls," Frodo had replied when he had heard what the Dwarf had said. "Do not worry, Gimli. No wolves will attack us while we are on our journey."

There had been a slight cutting edge to his Master's voice as he had spoken the words, and when Sam approached him on the matter, Frodo said: "Allie has always been misunderstood because of what she is. All she has ever wanted was acceptance. She never had a say in what she became, and yet the villagers from Hobbiton chased her away when she was but a lass who almost died while protecting me. I couldn't do anything for her then, but I don't want the same thing to befall her again, not if I can help it."

Sam remained silent at that.

At that moment, Merry came back with their firewood, and so did wolf Pippin, holding a few dead branches in his jaw with his green eyes sparkling joyously. This would be the first fire they were allowed to light ever since they had left Rivendell. For the previous twenty days or so, they had been walking through a tiresome looking land that never seemed to change. They had trudged through thorn bushes growing in thickets under a merciless wind, while only eating bread, fruits and cold meat.

Now, they had finally reached a deep hollow shrouded by great bushes of holly, and the weather had changed, letting the sun finally peek through the white shreds of clouds.

Sam let his backpack down on the ground with a thud and then let himself fall beside the fire. His stomach grumbled and he patted it morosely. "What's the point of starting a fire when there's nothing to cook? All we have is bread and dried meat."

However, at that moment, as though in answer to his complaints, a few wolves appeared at the limit of their circle, each carrying game between their jaws as they eyed the assembled people with shiny eyes. Gimli cried out in alarm, but Allie left Frodo's side and went to stand in front of the wolves. Her eyes shone silver for a second, and then one by one, the wolves deposited the food beside the fire and scattered away into the wild.

Allie turned towards the Fellowship. "As long as we travel in the wild, my wolves will be able to provide us with some extra food."

Aragorn gave her a small nod of appreciation and threw another branch into the fire. "One of the advantages of travelling with wolves," he commented. "When I first met Allie, and we travelled South together, the times were few when our bellies were empty."

Boromir also clapped cheerfully and then started to peel off the fur of a bunny with his knife. Legolas and Gandalf simply smiled, and even Gimli had to grunt in satisfaction at the sight of all that fresh meat.

Frodo was about to sit down beside the fire when Allie put a hand on his arm.

"The wind is blowing South. Sit over here, there will be less smoke," she said as she signalled to the other side of the fire.

Frodo held her gaze for a second longer than he intended, and her eyes became troubled. He knew she was thinking again of what had almost come to pass that day in Rivendell. She quickly removed her hand from his arm and stepped away. Frodo followed after her with a slight smile.

It struck Sam then how happy his Master looked. There was a kind of peace in his eyes nowadays, as though he had finally found something that had been missing before. Lately, when Merry or himself were complaining about the long hours of walking, Frodo would be the one to walk back and encourage them to push forward.

Sam knew that being reunited with Allie was the reason for his demeanor. Sam still couldn't get the image of Frodo and Allie hugging out of his mind. He felt embarrassed every time he thought about the intimacy of that scene, but more than that, he felt frustration at the situation. One thought kept circling around his head, one thought that he couldn't speak out loud: _But what about my sister?_

He knew how deeply Marigold cared for Frodo. All she ever talked about at home was what Frodo did, or what Frodo liked. Sam had always been so certain that Frodo and she would get married, and that Frodo would become part of his family. However, things were changing now. He knew he should look over this matter and simply be glad that Frodo was happy, but somehow, he didn't have a good feeling about this. He only wanted the best for his master, and his instinct was warning him that this was not it.

That night, tortured by the same thoughts that had weighed him down all day, Sam sat up on his temporary bed, sighing as he took in the starlit night. He couldn't sleep.

Aragorn and Gandalf were not sleeping either, but conversing quietly among themselves. In the dark, he thought he guessed the sleeping shapes of the other hobbits close to where he laid. Silently, he stood up, grimacing a little when his toe contacted a pebble. He trudged away into the small woods bordering their camp with the thought of relieving himself.

After he was done, he was about to turn back when he caught sight of something golden. Intrigued, he walked among the trees till he reached a meadow. And there, sitting on the ground, was Allie, with her hair shining golden under the starlight. In front of her sat a huge black wolf, its fur so dark that it almost merged with the night.

Allie's eyes were like pools of silver liquid as she stared into the yellow eyes of the black wolf. None of them were blinking, and none of them said a word. Sam felt a cold shiver travel up and down his spine. He wondered how Frodo would think of her if he got to witness such a scene.

"It's just not right. Not natural," he whispered to himself.

His words, albeit whispered so quietly, reached the ears of the wolf and the she-hobbit. They broke eye contact and both turned their heads to look at Sam. Sam thought of fleeing for a second, but then found the courage to stand his ground.

"Oh, hello there, Sam," Allie spoke up, her eyes now looking normal. "Let me introduce you. This is Informant, the wolf who gathers information for my pack. And this is Sam Gamgee, Frodo's gardener and good friend."

Sam found the experience eerie to be introduced to a wolf that looked like it was… grinning?

"Nice to meet you… sir," he told the wolf, feeling a little foolish.

Informant merely stared back silently.

After this, Allie turned back to Informant and resumed her conversation: "So you want to come with me?"

"I will follow your group from afar, as I do not think our presence will be welcome. But I need to make sure you will not do anything foolish. Informant sighed. You promised me you would not get yourself involved, and yet here we are."

Allie felt a little remorseful at this. "I know what you want to say, Informant, and it would make sense, but I just can't leave him alone."

Informant shook his big head. "I don't understand you. I really don't. It was the same back then, and it is still the same right now. Just what is it about that hobbit?"

She thought of remaining silent, but then she couldn't help but say: "He is everything to me, Informant. Now, and in the past."

Informant snorted irritably. She knew well enough what he thought about love by now. He had always been convinced it was a useless feeling for a wolf to have.

"Informant, nineteen years ago, when I went to save Frodo, you chose not to follow me. And yet the next day, when we won the battle, you came back. I almost didn't want to take you back into the pack at that time, but I have ended up forgiving you. And all these years, you have been by my side and you have trusted my decision. Can you not trust me this time around as well?"

The black wolf stared at her intensely for a while. "Whenever that hobbit is involved, you cease to think about the well-being of this pack."

"That is not true! I am doing this for us too." She went to him and grabbed a handful of thick fur on his neck as she stared into his eyes with intent. "Informant, the time of the wolves is coming. We have been living in shadows for centuries, but through this quest, all of Middle-earth will come to know of our existence."

Informant merely stared at the harsh light now gleaming in her eyes. "Why would that be a good thing? What would we gain from revealing ourselves?"

"I'm tired of living in hiding. Are you not? I thought wolves were accepted in the outside world, but people everywhere still look at us as though we are an aberration of nature. But no more! They will now learn to respect us, and to accept us. I'm tired of being hunted down wherever we go because people think of us as mere animals."

Informant pondered over this and then grinned. "Yes, you are right. The hour of the wolf is coming."_  
_

Allie removed her hand from Informant's head, satisfied, and signalled to him that the conversation was over for now. Informant stood up on his legs and slowly vanished into the night with his tail swinging behind him. Allie sighed wearily and turned around, slightly surprised when she saw that Sam still hadn't left.

"Go back to sleep, Sam," she suggested. "It's another long day of walking tomorrow."

Sam followed her through the woods in silence, but when their camp came into view, he suddenly interposed himself in front of her.

"Must you come with us?" he asked quietly.

Allie simply looked upon his face in the dark. "Sam, I know you don't welcome my presence. I can feel it." She saw he was trying to protest and quickly cut him off: "I can't blame you for it. Sometimes I also wonder if I am doing the right thing by staying by his side, but my heart cannot be settled lest I know he's safe."

"He will be safe. The Fellowship is here to protect him. And Mr. Pippin is here too."

She turned away for a second. "He has asked me to come with him."

Sam bit his lip and then shook his head once, then twice. "Mr. Frodo doesn't always know what's best for him."

Her eyes turned sad. "Yes… I know."

"No!" Sam exclaimed. "No, begging your pardon, but you don't. I remember it all now, those things from the past. After you left with Gandalf, twenty years ago, Mr. Frodo was sick for a long time. His fever simply wouldn't recede, no matter what poor Mr. Bilbo and the healers tried. He would get better, but then the illness would come back with a vengeance. Sometimes it got so bad that we all feared for his life. He had to miss school for half a year, and he refused to talk to any of us. We were all scared he'd never come out of his dark phase, but eventually he did. He started eating again, and talking again, and laughing again. And he also got better. With time."

Allie's eyes were shining now as she clenched her fists painfully. "I-I didn't know this."

The first six months after she had left the Shire, the pack was in disarray and she was too occupied with managing the surviving members of her pack.

Sam saw the way she was trembling, and a light of compassion slowly came into his eyes. "I didn't tell you this to make you feel bad, Miss Allie. What I mean is that… I don't want to see the past repeating itself in the way that I know it will if you two continue seeing each other."

Slowly, her shoulders sagged and her proud posture vanished. That was her biggest fear; the last thing she wanted was to bring him to harm. Sam's expression faltered a little when he saw her looking back at him with wide eyes, seized by doubt and confusion, no longer a fearless leader of wolves, but just a lost young hobbit girl.

"That is unfair, don't you think?"

Sam and Allie both startled as they looked up at Pippin who had just spoken. The latter came out of the cover of the trees with a serious expression on his face.

"It's not fair what you are saying, Sam," he repeated firmly. "Frodo wasn't the only one who suffered! You don't know what Allie had to go through all these years. It is not easy holding back from transforming. It is a constant battle as her wolf nature and the Blood within her becomes stronger with time. On top of that, she was forced to leave the place we used to call home, and walk into the unknown world of Middle-earth. She was only a child back then, Sam. I can say all this, because it was the same for me. "

"That's enough, Pippin," Allie spoke up firmly in a strong voice.

Her shoulders were straight again, and her moment of vulnerability had all but passed.

"I just wanted him to know," Pippin stated.

Sam backed away with a contrite expression on his face. "Pardon me if I offended any of you. That was not my intention. I was simply voicing out loud what I think is best for Mr. Frodo," he whispered uncertainly.

"I know you always have Frodo's best interests at heart, Sam," she agreed softly. "I am glad you told me what you truly think. I will think on your words."

Allie then walked back to their camp with Pippin behind her. Sam stared at her retreating back for long seconds before slowly following after them both.

* * *

The Fellowship was presently trekking through a land of deep valleys and turbulent waters, with the Misty Mountains rising tall on their left.

"We must hold this course, west of the Misty Mountains, for forty days. If our luck holds, the Gap of Rohan will still be open to us. From there, our road turns east, to Mordor," Gandalf had said.

Frodo sighed upon hearing Gandalf's words. Forty more days of trudging through mountainous lands? Even he was starting to feel the weariness creep up on him. A few paces ahead of him, Allie was climbing the hill now extended in front of them. Her legs were working steadily, swift and lithe, their muscular shape clearly defined by the black Elvish suit she had been wearing since Frodo had seen her in Rivendell. She had told him that the suit was made of an elastic material that facilitated her movements, and it was resistant against scratching. Lord Elrond had personally made it for her, and Gandalf had added a bit of his magic to it as well, so that she would not lose it when she transformed.

Sometimes Frodo caught Pippin looking at him and Allie in wicked amusement, and it was at those moments that he couldn't help groaning as he recalled what had almost come to pass between him and Allie in Rivendell. His timing could not have been worse!

Allie was walking slower now as they reached the top of the hill, and soon Frodo caught up to her. He called out her name and she turned her head towards him. He was slightly taken aback when he saw that her eyes were shining silver. Frodo stared into them unblinkingly for a while, marvelling at the ethereal quality of her irises that looked like bottomless wells of silver mist. She finally blinked as her eyes reverted back to their usual grey.

Rubbing at them tiredly, she then turned towards Frodo once more. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

"Do your eyes do that when you communicate with the wolves?" Frodo asked.

She knew he was talking of the silver color. "Yes. When I use the Blood."

Frodo pondered over this for an instant. "If I remember correctly, before you could only do that when you were in your wolf form."

"I have learned how to do it without transforming."

"Now that you mention it, I have not seen you in your wolf form ever since you saved me back in Weathertop. And even then, I didn't get a good look."

She detected the unspoken question in his words. "I am happier when I'm a hobbit," answered she simply.

Frodo saw a trace of sadness in her features but then it was gone. She sensed him staring at her, and glanced back. "You have another question, don't you?"

He shrugged unrepentantly. "I have many of them, actually. I know you have told me some of the things you have been doing up until now, but I wish to learn more. I wish to know everything. Now that I think about it, you knew bits and pieces of my life up until now, but I was left in the dark about you. I even wondered whether you were still alive. I wish I could have had bits and pieces of news about you too. It would have given me comfort."

She felt warmth trickle down her chest at the sincerity in his voice.

"I will answer your questions as best I can," she said.

Their hands bumped a little against each other's as they walked, and suddenly Frodo remembered vividly how they had held hands on that winter night of Yule after she had given him the half moon. That was such a long time ago, but looking at her now, with the sunlight dancing in her hair, he suddenly had the crazy certainty that if he held her hand again like he did on that day, he would be able to connect the past to the present and bridge the gap of twenty years sitting between them.

If she took his hand now, then he would know that she wanted to do the same.

Acting on this impulse, he stopped in front of her and slowly reached out his hand. She stopped as well and looked back in soft puzzlement.

"Take my hand," he encouraged.

Her gaze travelled down to his palm.

Frodo waited, slightly nervous. But slowly, she brushed her fingers against his, and then slowly rested her palm on his.

Frodo's smile widened, and Allie gently echoed it back. He seized her hand and then laced their fingers together, and on they walked again, in silence.

Frodo's hand was warm and masculine, and his grip was strong. A whirlwind of nostalgia hit her as she remembered all the times they had held hands like this in the past. He hadn't needed to do anything more than hold her hand to make her feel like she could do anything. She realized with a jolt hadn't felt this feeling of safety in a long time, not even when she was in Rivendell. But now she did once more, even though the road was treacherous and she knew they were walking towards danger and darkness.

And so for a moment, she allowed herself to stop worrying about the future, to stop worrying about whether the Ring would accelerate her transformation, or whether she should listen to Sam and leave Frodo's side. She stopped thinking, and only lived in the present, savouring the feeling of his hand around hers.

Frodo lifted his head happily and pulled back his hood, welcoming the feeling of the sun on his face. It was a beautiful day, not as chill as it had been for the last couple of weeks.

He started humming a melody, and soon the lyrics came to him as well:

"The Road goes ever on and on  
Down from the door where it began.  
Now far ahead the Road has gone,  
And I must follow, if I can,  
Pursuing it with eager feet,  
Until it joins some larger way  
Where many paths and errands meet.  
And whither then? I cannot say."

"I remember this song!" Allie exclaimed. "It's something that Bilbo used to sing all the time! I still remember this melody."

"It was his walking song," replied Frodo happily. "He used to hum it whenever he set out on a big journey."

"Yes! Do you remember what he always used to say before he set out. 'It's a dangerous business', he'd say, 'going out of your door. You step onto the road…'"

"And if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off," they finished at the same time.

They looked at each other, and then laughed. Frodo's laughter died down before hers did, and for a few seconds, he just stared in wonder into her cheerful face. He had missed that smile; he was so glad she could laugh again like this.

"In any case, I have always loved his song!" Allie said after regaining some of her serious, although her eyes were still shining merrily. "When I wanted to sing it afterwards though, I could only remember the first line. So I had to make up the rest. And I changed the melody up a bit too."

"Let's hear it," Frodo encouraged.

"Oh no, it is not as good as Bilbo's," she quickly defiled.

"I still want to hear it," Frodo stated stubbornly as he tightened his hand around hers, not allowing her to escape.

Allie nibbled her lip. "All right, all right, but it's very simple, really."

She then cleared her throat shyly and then began singing:

"The Road goes on, ever ever on.  
Hill by hill, mile by mile,  
Field by field, stile by stile.  
The Road goes on, ever ever on."

"I like this," Frodo nodded. "It is quite different, and more joyful."

"What's this? I hear singing!" Merry cried out as he caught up with them, his brown hair unruly after being blown around by the wind. His muscles were aching from the long hours of walking just a few seconds ago, but now it was forgotten and his cheeks were red with excitement.

"Allie! You are actually singing that song out loud?" Pippin's exclaiming voice also reached them as he appeared beside Merry. "You have never allowed anyone to hear you sing before!"

Allie blushed and intimated to Pippin to be silent. Frodo chuckled at this. "Why not? You have a mighty good voice, if I might say so."

"Informant always made fun of her when she did," Pippin exclaimed when Allie remained stubbornly silent. "He'd always tell her: 'Howling is the way to go, not some nonsensical words strung in song!'"

"Nonsense!" Merry rebutted, offended. "Tell that Informant person of yours that he does not know what he's talking about. Here, Pippin, how about this one, we used to sing it all the time before!"

"Upon the hearth the fire is red,  
Beneath the roof there is a bed;  
But not yet weary are our feet…"

But Pippin was shaking his head as his brow furrowed. "No Merry, I don't remember the words to this one."

Merry gasped as though what Pippin had just said was sacrilegious, but then he recovered and dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "Well, it matters not. I have a better song nowadays! It's a drinking song though, and I made it up myself. I'm pretty proud of it. Listen to the first verse!"

"Hey ho! To the bottle I go  
To heal my heart and drown my woe  
Rain may fall and wind may blow  
But there still be  
Many miles to go."

It was a good beat, and soon Frodo and Allie were clapping along as Pippin bobbed his head. Instinctually, he continued from where Merry had left off:  
"Sweet is the sound of the pouring rain  
And the stream that falls from hill to plain  
Better than rain or rippling brook  
Is a mug of beer inside this Took!"

"Yeah!" Merry clamoured. "You've still got plenty of hobbitness in you, my dear friend! Now I really miss the Green Dragon. And Longbottom's leaf!"

"Longbottom's leaf?" Pippin wondered.

Merry and Frodo looked at each other in shock, and then Merry exclaimed: "Oh, that's right! You don't even know about Longbottom's leaf! It's the best pipe weed in the world, Pippin! I wish I had some on me! You would love it!"

"Smoking and all that, I'm not so sure," Pippin defiled.

"Nonsense! Any decent hobbit is only to be satisfied when there is a cloud of smoke floating in front of his face!" Merry affirmed seriously.

Pippin shrugged and turned to Allie. "In any case, I really like your song, like I have told you numerous times before. Is there more to it?"

"No," she answered. "That's all I could come up with."

"We should make up more lyrics for it," Frodo decided. "We can't always rely on Bilbo's old song, we have to come up with our own walking song now. Since we are all journeying together now, having our own adventures, it is only appropriate."

"Good idea!" Merry shouted. "All right Allie, why don't you sing it again? By the time you are done, this Brandybuck right here will have several more lyrics to add, I'm sure."

But Allie was looking to her right, to where she could see Sam walking further away, hesitating to come join them. The conversation they had had previously floated a second in her mind, and she wondered whether he was staying away because of her. However, she still beckoned to him hesitantly with a small smile, urging him to come.

Frodo turned to look at what she was beckoning. "Come here Sam! We could use your help too!"

Sam walked over slowly, and he addressed a small smile to the group.

"Well, well, five hobbits are here reunited," Merry declared seriously. "We will not be able to walk away with our heads held high if we do not come up with a decent song."

Sam had always loved songs. He would always be humming tunes when he did his gardening at Bag-End. Upon listening to Allie's lyrics once more, he started humming an additional melody, and then softly sang:  
"There's a Road  
Calling you to stray.  
Step by step,  
Pulling you away."

"Under Moon and Star  
Take the Road no matter how far," Frodo continued with a smile.

Sam was now bobbing his head now, and measured the beat with his hands:  
"Where it leads  
No one ever knows  
Don't look back  
Follow where it goes.  
Far beyond the sun,  
Take the Road,  
Wherever it runs."

And then Allie included her bit as the chorus: "The Road goes on, ever ever on. Hill by hill, mile by mile. Field by field, stile by stile, the Road goes on, ever ever on."

"Come on, Pippin. They are outdoing us," Merry laughed and then sang:  
"One more mile, and then it's time to eat.  
Pick some pears, succulent and sweet."

Allie and Frodo looked at each other, puffing at the fact that the only thing Merry could come up with had to be related to food.

"Sweet pink trout," Pippin added, not minding the laughter," trickled from a stream. Milk a goat, churn it into cream."

"Far beyond the sun," Sam sang again, "take the road, wherever it runs."

Allie then sang the chorus again, and this time everyone joined in as well. They sang the chorus many times, and then Frodo turned to Allie and softly sang to her:  
"See the Road flows past your doorstep  
Calling for your feet to stray  
Like a deep and rolling river  
It will sweep them far away."

Allie was impressed, but not to be outdone, she sang back to him:  
"Just beyond the far horizon  
Lies a waiting world unknown  
Like the dawn its beauty beckons  
With a wonder all its own."

Her last note fell and ended, crystal clear. Frodo was looking at her warmly, his moon pendant shining brightly under the sun. He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back, beaming happily.

Some members of the Fellowship who had heard the song were grinning. The hobbits had not realized they had been loud enough for others to hear.

"All right, let's focus back on walking now, we are falling behind Gandalf," Sam stated.

The other four hobbits all agreed and hastened the pace, but their spirits and their fatigue were now greatly lifted.

Aragorn looked back at Allie laughing so merrily, surrounded by her friends, and did not recognize her. "She was never one to smile much when I first knew her," he told Gandalf.

The old Wizard nodded gently. "The first time I laid eyes upon her, she was but a child. She had to grow up too fast."

His eyes travelled to the Ring-bearer, who was also looking joyous. "The same can be said about Frodo. Those two had to face many hardships ever since they were little. They only had each other to go through the rough times; I suppose they never thought they would be separated."

"It is not too late now. They have found each other at last," Aragorn supplied, and his eyes became distant for a second as he thought about Arwen that he had left behind in Rivendell.

"Perhaps, but not for long, I'm afraid," Gandalf muttered under his beard.

Aragorn looked at the Wizard without understanding.

His eyes then fell on a series of white rocks on the top of the next hill, and he told the rest of the Fellowship they were to make halt there and start a campfire for the mid-day lunch, much to the hobbits' delight.

After they had cooked their sausages and finished eating them, Allie went to Frodo with a hand on the hilt on her sword. Frodo sighed and stood up. Sam's eyes followed them as they went to stand at the bottom of the rocks, on a flat grassy surface. Even with the long hours of walking, Allie had insisted that Frodo still had to train himself at sword fighting. Sam initially had thought it best for his Master to rest during those times, but today, he watched them go happily enough; singing had put him in a good mood, and he was also coming to realize that it was not a bad idea for his Master to learn how to defend himself with a sword.

Allie eyed the way Frodo was holding Sting appreciatively. He had made a lot of progress in the last couple of days, and she was proud of him.

"I'm ready whenever you are," he told her seriously.

Allie silently approved of his confident tone, and then, she charged without warning. Their swords clashed in the middle, and then they broke apart and went at each other again. Soon, the sound of the blades attracted the attention of the other members of the Fellowship who were resting further up.

"I want to learn too!" Merry exclaimed as he started making his way to them.

However, Pippin blocked his way playfully. "You are with me, cousin. Draw your sword!"

"Allow me to join in!" Boromir's voice rose beside them as he approached.

Pippin eyed his big sword appreciatively. "Very well, you teach Merry instead."

As Boromir started his sword tuition with Merry, Frodo and Allie continued their battle. They had moved further down the hill now, and Allie was really impressed by Frodo's new strength and skills. He was going at her with confidence, and blocking her strokes effectively most of the time.

But he still had a weakness. He always forgot to move his feet. Allie lunged down and tripped him over with one foot. Frodo's eyes widened as he lost his balance; he fell forwards on his knees and dropped his sword. Allie came at him from above.

Frodo's blue eyes flashed as he leaped up from the ground and lunged himself at her head on, colliding against her and grabbing her sword hand. Allie did not let herself be deterred; she hit him in the ribs with her free hand and he let go with a grunt of pain.

"No matter what, never drop your sword," she reminded him sternly as she sauntered back.

Frodo massaged the bruised area petulantly. "That hurt!"

"That hurt? My dear Frodo, if I had been an enemy, you wouldn't be alive anymore."

Frodo sighed and went to pick up his sword again. It was useless to try and gain sympathy from her during their lessons, which were now getting harder and harder. But he knew a real battle with swords would be ten times more gruesome and pitiless, and so he understood the need for focus.

They went at each other again, eyes set on their opponent, swords raised. They exchanged a series of brutal blows that left Frodo's whole arm ringing, and then he bounced back to regain his breath.

At that moment, a cry of alarm suddenly resounded from higher up the hill and the look of concentration on Allie's face faltered.

The two hobbits raised their heads in time to realize that they had moved quite a distance away from the campfire. Aragorn's face suddenly appeared between two white rocks as he screamed urgently at them to hide.

Allie and Frodo both sheathed their swords and looked around frantically for a hiding spot, but the land was barren except for a few bushes.

"There!" Frodo pointed to a large tree growing near the hill side. It had a dense foliage that would be effective in shielding them from unfriendly eyes.

Allie nodded and the two hobbits subsequently started climbing up the tree with practiced ease. They didn't know what they were hiding from until dark shadows suddenly passed by close to the tree. Allie's eyes shone silver as she asked her wolves what they could see from where they were.

_"A flock of black crows," _they answered.

"_Crebains from Dunland,"_ Councillor added after receiving a mental image of the birds. _"It is rare for them to be this far up North. They have come for a purpose, most likely as spies."_

Allie turned around to convey this to Frodo, who was perched on the same branch as her with his right hand around the trunk. He merely nodded and then pressed a finger to his lips as more birds flashed by their tree.

Allie's position was quite uncomfortable as she tried to stay balanced with her hands around the branch she was sitting on. When one of the black crows let out a loud croak and dashed through the outer limits of the foliage close to where they were, Allie leaned back brusquely and almost lost her balance if not for Frodo's arm around her waist, holding her close to him and stabilizing her.

She clenched his arm gratefully.

Suddenly, something brushed against the base of her neck, sending an unpleasant chill down to her very core. Turning around sharply, she saw the Ring grazing her neck as it dangled out of Frodo's shirt. It was barely touching her, but suddenly she felt nauseous.

Her heart was pounding erratically. It was the most daunting and unpleasant feeling she had ever felt; it was as though something filthy was infiltrating inside of her, tapping her very soul with cold fingers.

She wrestled a little in Frodo's arm and tried to lean away from him, but the feeling persisted.

"Are you all right?" Frodo whispered against her ear, at the same time as Informant's voice resonated inside of her worriedly: "_What's wrong? The Blood is in disarray! Why are you sending us these signals?"_

"_I'm not sending you anything,"_ she managed to communicate.

"_We can hear a dark voice… dark whispers… the wolves are getting restless," _Informant snarled.

"I hear no voice," she said out loud in her hobbit voice as she felt her fangs growing in her mouth.

"What?" Frodo whispered.

The last bird finally flew away and Allie yanked herself away from Frodo and let herself fall off the tree, landing hard on the ground below and rolling a couple of times on herself.

"Allie!" Frodo cried out in alarm, and then hurried to climb down from the tree.

Allie was now holding her sides as she knelt on the grass with her forehead to the ground. She was snarling violently as she felt the pressure growing inside of her, tearing her up. She had gone through this many times in the past already; after a certain time without transforming, it seemed the wolf in her grew restless to be let out. In those times, it would leap within her, gnaw at her, and hurt her, desperate to gain over, but Allie never let it, no matter how painful it became. And now it was happening again, except much worse than all the previous times she could remember.

Frodo, worried, knelt down beside her, but she turned her face brusquely towards him and growled: "Stay away!"

The Ring was glaring at her from behind Frodo's shirt, and she whimpered at the sight of it.

She lunged away from Frodo at the same time as the wolf exploded out of her. And then she stood there in her wolf form, panting painfully with her eyes shut and her tongue hanging out. However, the pressure and the unpleasantness were finally gone.

"What was that all about?" Pippin's voice reached her, and his hobbit frame soon appeared on top of the hill as he started rushing down to meet her.

The golden wolf turned to face Pippin wildly and stated: "_I'm not so sure, but I think it was the Ring! I have never lost control of my transformation like this before!"_

Pippin eyed her worriedly, and then his eyes travelled to Frodo who was watching the whole scene with a stunned expression.

Frodo could sense that something was wrong, but so far that concern was overshadowed by his awe at seeing again the golden wolf that had haunted his dreams for so long. She was way bigger than before, taller than he was as she stood on her four legs; and her fur shone even more brilliantly than he remembered. Her face and muzzle were thin, with smooth angles, and she had the most expressive eyes he had seen on any wolf thus far.

"It's all right," Pippin said to Frodo to reassure him. "She was just reacting to the danger of the birds."

But somehow Frodo could not believe him.

"I need to speak to Aragorn and Gandalf. They are better informed in such matters," Allie told Pippin.

She started trotting away, shaking her head a little to get rid of the last remnants of dizziness.

"Allie! Wait!" Frodo ran forwards a few steps. "What has just happened to you?"

The wolf looked back at Frodo intensely, but then swiftly ran up the hill and out of sight.

Pippin was about to follow her when Frodo stopped him by the arm.

"Pippin, you need to tell me the truth now! It's related to the thing she cannot speak to me about, is it not?" he demanded seriously.

Pippin's eyes darted around uncomfortably. "Maybe."

Frodo tightened his grip on Pippin's arms. "She always has this strange look in her eyes whenever we get too close to the topic. I have given it plenty of thought and have arrived to the conclusion that it must be related to me somehow. Or… is it the Ring? Is it something about the Ring that she's scared about? I wish she would talk to me about it, for I am the Ring-bearer after all."

Pippin was shocked that Frodo had already come this close to the truth. He must have pondered over the matter a lot. However, even if Pippin wanted to answer to his desperate plea, he knew Frodo should not hear this from him. And so he remained obstinately mute and just looked back at Frodo helplessly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I really am. But it's not something I am free to reveal."

Frodo got angry for a second, because this matter was really troubling him, but then he let it go. It wasn't Pippin's fault and he couldn't blame him for keeping her secrets. He was her Protector after all.

Frodo went back to the site of their campfire, and saw Aragorn and Allie, who was now back in her hobbit form, in retreat from the others, and conversing quietly. Allie seemed tense and Aragorn, worried.

"Are you all right, Mr. Frodo? I was worried about you when I saw those black crows coming," Sam said.

"We managed to hide on top of a tree," Frodo answered distractedly, eyes not leaving Aragorn and Allie.

Sam turned to look in that direction and his brow furrowed. "I wonder what they could be talking about. They have been at it for quite some time now."

Frodo blinked and then turned back to Sam. "What were those black birds anyway? Enemies?"

Sam's face grew dark. "Most likely. Mr. Gandalf just told us they are spies of Saruman. We were meant to go to the gap of Rohan, but now he says he might have to look for another road."

"We will cross the Caradhras," Gandalf's voice rose near them in response to Sam's words that he had overheard.

At this, the Fellowship all raised their heads to look upon the first of the snow tipped mountains on their left. Its slopes were barren, glistening red in the waking sun, as the snow at its top gleamed coldly.

"It will be too dangerous," Boromir retorted. "The weather is treacherous up on the mountains, or so I have heard."

"You have heard right. But still, we have no choice but to attempt its crossing now that our initial path is proved to be watched," Gandalf muttered darkly.

That being said, the Fellowship got ready to leave. Frodo looked over to where Aragorn and Alllie stood. Both of their faces were dark as they rejoined the rest of the group.

"What is it? What is wrong?" Frodo urged her again.

She gave him a reassuring look. "It's nothing, Frodo. Don't worry about it. I'm sorry for reacting so strongly, but I was just surprised by the birds. Come on, the others are waiting."

Frodo did not buy it at all, but for now, the only thing he could do was continue his march up the slope of the Caradhras.

* * *

_AN: I just want to say that I didn't invent the hobbits' walking song. Nope, credit doesn't go to me. It's actually a song called "The Road Goes On", from the Lord of the Rings musical. If you haven't heard it yet, I encourage you to youtube it :D It's so good! So, apart from that, hope you all enjoyed the chapter and will leave me a review :p Take care!_

**BritneyandArchieForever:** Yes, I think Allie will definitely be able to help him get his mind off the Ring a little. As I watched the movies, I always hoped there would be someone who could do that for him. Sam is a good friend and all, but he couldn't really help Frodo in that regard. LOL, well that curious little Pippin, he really does poke his nose everywhere :p But they will get their moment, I promise. Soon, actually. Very soon. Frodo is also my fave character (no, really? :p). I find him so underrated usually. Just because he's not in any of the big fighting scenes doesn't mean what he did was not important or heroic. Anyway, thank you so much for your review! I had a great time reading it! :D

**1945:** hahaha! aww no, poor Pippin didn't do it on purpose! It's just that his timing is always bad :p But Frodo and Allie will get their moment. It's building up to it. It really is :D Thanks for the review! I love it, please keep 'em coming! :D


	35. The Easiest Choice

**The Easiest Choice**

Over the next couple of days, the Fellowship redirected their route towards the Caradhras. The ground soon became an incline as they started their ascension. There was no more singing and no more laughing; everyone was burdened by their own worries and few words were exchanged.

Frodo was starting to find the silence oppressing, for it was in those moments that the Ring seemed to grow slightly heavier than usual. He also started noticing Boromir throwing nervous glances his way when he thought Frodo wasn't looking.

Allie no longer walked by his side, but chose to trail at the back with Aragorn and Pippin. Merry, Sam and Frodo were walking together most of the time now. Frodo's nervousness kept growing because of her silence, and he would often stop and glance back to make sure she was still following them. She was not a formal member of their Fellowship, so she could come and go as she pleased with no real restrictions. Because of this, he had the terrible feeling lately that she might choose to quietly slip away in the night without a word.

He didn't know what he would do if she disappeared again. He felt angry at her now. Why would she not talk to him instead of leaving him in the dark about her troubles?

Lost in thought, he was not watching where he was going and stepped on a loose rock. He lost his footing and fell, twisting his ankle a little in the process. Sam looked back when he heard his Master grunt in pain, and he meant to dash towards him.

"Mr. Frodo!" he called out worriedly. "Are you all right?"

Frodo reassured him with a wave of his hand.

"Is your ankle hurt?" Sam asked again upon seeing him limp slightly.

Frodo put his weight on it, but apart from a dull pain, it worked just fine. Legolas, who was nearby, came over to check on him as well, and Frodo addressed a small embarrassed smile his way.

"Be more careful, my friend," the Elf intimated softly.

"I will. Thank you."

He started walking again with Sam two steps behind him.

Later in the day, Allie caught up to him as Sam went to have a chat with Merry and Pippin. She walked in silence a few paces behind him. They were now all slightly winded from the climb. Frodo was reassured by her presence, but he knew he couldn't let this temporary feeling of reassurance cripple his resolve to get answers. After a few minutes of walking in silence, he finally said without turning back: "Are you not going to tell me what happened that day?"

Allie looked at his back uncertainly. "Frodo, I told you that sometimes the wolf in me needs to be let out. But it won't happen like that again, I promise."

Frodo turned to face her quite suddenly, frustration brimming in his blue eyes. "Allie, that is not the problem and you know it. I know it is not that simple! Don't take me for an idiot!"

She found herself unable to face him at that.

Frodo grabbed her arm. "Do not leave me in the dark any longer! I am begging you! If this thing has anything to do with me, I have a right to know!"

Seeing her conflicted and guilty expression, he softened the hold on her arm and pulled her towards him a little. "Allie, I didn't mean to upset you. I just don't understand… is this thing so terrible?"

Her arm was shaking a little under his hand.

"You used to tell me everything," he pressed. "I can handle it. Trust me."

She looked into his eyes uncertainly and Frodo whispered again: "Trust me."

Pippin had told her that if she truly loved Frodo, then she should tell him the truth. But she would lose him once she did. Could she simply have one more day? Just one more day, she told herself.

"Not now," she finally said. "It is not that I do not trust you, Frodo. I just need some more time to sort my thoughts. Please."

He slowly released her arm. "I will be waiting."

The next day, they finally started seeing snow on the ground in front of them. Frodo looked up and was almost blinded by the expanse of whiteness in front of him. The air he expired created a cloud of vapour in front of his mouth. He rubbed his hands together and pulled his cape tighter around himself to preserve some warmth.

They continued climbing up the snowy incline, and soon the hobbits were trudging through snow that reached knee level. Pippin chose to transform into a wolf, for it was easier for him to walk in the snow that way.

Frodo was getting tired and his feet felt like lead; his lack of motivation also certainly did not help his case. He started to lag behind as the others all trudged passed him.

"Hang in there, Frodo," Gimli grunted encouragingly as he made his way through the snow.

Frodo smiled back with effort; his cheeks seemed frozen.

He suddenly stepped into a patch of snow that was deeper than the rest and lost his footing. He rolled down the slope until he was lying behind a hillock of snow. He pushed himself up on his elbows and spat out ice from his mouth. His hand rose to his neck automatically and felt for the Ring; it was still there.

Sighing, he was about to get up when faint voices reached his ears. Peeking from above the snow hillock, he saw Allie and Aragorn climbing towards him. They must have been lagging quite a distance off from the rest of the group.

At first he couldn't hear what they were saying, but as they approached, he started to be able to make out some words.

"… so the occurrence has not happened today either?" Aragorn was saying.

"No. Not today."

"And yet you have been close to him before that day. Why have you not reacted to it before, I wonder?"

"I still cannot be sure if the Ring is the culprit," Allie's voice whispered.

At this, Frodo strained his ears with a pounding heart.

"From Elrond's warnings, I would gather that the Ring was indeed responsible for your transformation that day," Aragorn said.

Frodo stopped breathing. The Ring! He knew it had something to do with it. His mind raced as he pondered over the other words. So the Ring had caused her to transform? But why would that be a bad thing? It was true that he had never seen her transform ever since he had met her in Rivendell. She had said it was because she preferred to be in hobbit form, but maybe there was something more there. He crawled in the snow, unfeeling of the cold insinuating itself inside his clothes.

"But like you said," Allie was saying, "why only on then on the tree? I have been close to the Ring before, but it was the first time that I felt the unpleasantness."

"Perhaps it's a matter of exposure," Aragorn pondered. "Or perhaps it was because the Ring was reacting to the presence of the enemy birds and calling to them. There are too many possibilities, and I do not have an answer for certain. I wish I did."

"In any case, now I see that Lord Elrond has been right about one thing: the Ring will indeed accelerate my transformation. I think I have always known it, but I just did not want to accept it," her voice was full of bitter resignation.

They were passing by the place where Frodo was hidden now. He held his breath and flattened himself more against the ground. He could not yet fully comprehend the meaning of her words, but he was trying to. Accelerate the transformation? What did she mean by that? In spite of himself, a growing sense of alarm emerged in the pit of his stomach.

When their footsteps passed, Frodo dared to peek again over the snow. His heart stopped, however, when he saw Aragorn turning slightly to gaze upon him with one piercing eye. Frodo lifted a finger to his lips pleadingly, and the Ranger frowned hesitantly for a second.

But then he turned away and addressed himself to Allie: "Why not tell Frodo of this?"

Allie paused in her steps. "I don't know how. I know he wants me to tell him, but once I do… I am torn, Aragorn. I know I owe him this explanation, but telling him while he is on this quest? Maybe I shouldn't have come with the Fellowship after all. I just don't know. My mind is telling me one thing, and my heart another."

"My dear Allie," Aragorn spoke up soothingly. "I will now say this as a friend. Whether you heed to it or not is up to you, but I will say it nonetheless: I don't think avoidance works any better in this matter. He is confused at this moment, because he does not understand your actions. Do not try to carry this burden all by yourself, I beg of you."

Allie's eyes had grown more and more troubled with every word Aragorn was uttering, and when he was done speaking, she buried her face in her hands.

"I know you are right, Aragorn. Pippin has told me the same thing over and over. But how can I tell him such a thing? How can I tell him that one day I will not be able to stay a hobbit?"

Her words were muffled, but Frodo heard them clearly nonetheless. For a moment, the shock was too much and he forgot himself. He stood up violently and whispered: "No!"

Allie whipped her head in his direction. Terror suddenly invaded her eyes. That look alone told Frodo that he had not heard wrong.

The implications of it made his heart feel like it was being pierced by countless cold needles. His whole body was shaking from something that had nothing to do with the cold. He kept looking at her, looking at her and hoping that she would lie to him and say that it wasn't true, but Allie simply stood there with a dumbfounded expression on her face.

Aragorn watched them both sadly before squeezing Allie's shoulder encouragingly and walking away.

She barely felt it.

So the truth was finally out. The wall that stood between them was finally visible and tangible, a dark polished slate of steel that separated them more effectively than distance and time; it was something thick and high and impossible to break down. Frodo would walk away from his side of the wall and she on hers. That was the only possible course of action.

She could see the tears gathering in his eyes as the same kind of understanding finally washed over him as well.

He made a step forward towards her but then dropped his gaze to the ground in a daze.

So she walked towards him instead, numbly. She stood by him and made a gesture to touch him, but then thought better of it and let her hand drop limply by her side.

They just stood there for an indefinite amount of time with neither one of them moving or talking.

"You will become a full wolf one day?" he finally whispered in a thin voice with his eyes cast down.

"Yes." The single hardest word she ever had to utter.

"How long…" he had to stop and swallow. "How long do you have left?"

"Not long enough."

He finally looked at her with eyes full of pain. "Why haven't you told me this earlier?" he screamed.

Her eyes shook. "Tell you… and what would you have done with the knowledge except to despair?"

He wiped at his face in a daze. "What I would have done… I would have… looked for a cure! There must be something…"

"Frodo," she interrupted him softly. "There is no cure. Do you think I haven't tried to find one myself? If such a cure existed, the wolves would have ceased to exist by now. I am certain I am not the only one who would wish to revert back to my old form. My kin has existed for centuries. This fact alone is telling that there is no cure."

Frodo grew more and more restless as she spoke. "But… it has been twenty, no nineteen years since you were bitten, and you are still fine! Maybe… maybe if you just stay in this form and do not transform recklessly, you will forever be able to stay this way!"

"This is what I have been doing all along. But I can feel it in my Blood, Frodo. I don't think I can keep the beast caged inside of me forever. And besides…"

She stared into his frantic face with a heavy heart. It was time to tell him everything.

"Lord Elrond has said that the Ring might accelerate my transformation. I refused to believe in that, but the other day, on the tree, I felt its evil affecting the Blood. And… it caused me to transform even though I tried my best not to."

This time, all color seemed to drain from Frodo's face. He grabbed the Ring in his fist, tightening the hold until the edges of the Ring stuck into his palm painfully.

"Then… then…" Frodo stuttered madly, "I can just refuse to be the Ring-bearer! I can just… get rid of it! And then you will be fine!"

Under her alarmed eyes, he suddenly passed the chain around his neck and took off the Ring. He grabbed the chain and raised his arm as if to throw it away.

"No! Frodo! Don't!" Allie screamed and then tried to stop him.

The Ring shone golden in the cold morning sun and Frodo looked at it in spite of himself. Seeing its golden shimmer for just a second was enough to make him hesitate. And then Allie's hand was on his wrist and she forcefully brought his hand down.

But Frodo barely felt her grip. Horror washed over him at his reluctance to let go of the Ring. Had it started to take hold of him already?

On top of that, he suddenly became conscious again of the fact that the task had been entrusted to him. He now carried the fate of the Middle-earth in his hands and that was not something he was allowed to throw away so easily if he had any sense of virtue left in him.

But what about Allie then?

He fell down on his knees with the Ring still clutched in his hand and hung his head down low. There was a sharp pain in his chest that made it hard to breathe. Allie shakily knelt down in front of him as well, lost and scared.

"Allie, what am I going to do now?" he asked in a voice so full of distress that it broke her heart.

"You have to carry on with this quest," she answered painfully. "And I said I would accompany you, at least for a while; I'm not going back on my word."

"But the Ring! But it will affect you… you cannot come… this is not what I wanted…" his words sizzled out.

Allie had never seen him so defeated before and seeing that expression on his face was unbearable.

So she made up her mind.

Slowly, she pressed her palm against his face and made him look at her. Her grey eyes were clear when she said: "If I am to become a wolf sooner or later, then I would rather help you carry out the mission before that happens… but only as your friend. Your best of friends. You know what I mean, don't you?"

She could not be selfish any longer. She knew now that wanting him was impossible and would only lead to heartbreak for the both of them.

Frodo knew what she was saying, and the words made sense but… how could he accept it? He had waited for her all his life, but to what end? To this end?

"Just as friends…" he repeated weakly.

"You have always been my best friend, Frodo, before anything else. So we will just continue that way," she said as cheerfully as she could.

Anger suddenly welled up inside his chest at those words. "Don't say that!" he muttered low in his throat.

She withdrew her hand from his cheek and clasped it in her other one. "Our time as friends will not be limited. We can stay friends forever, even after I become a wolf. Nothing will ever break that bond between us. So…"

"No!" he snapped angrily as he stood up. "Stop talking! The word "friend", I do not want to hear it! I cannot be satisfied with that. Can you?"

"Yes," she replied firmly. "Yes, I can."

Frodo froze at that, and then his shoulders sagged sadly. "How? How can you be satisfied with just that? Do you not love me?" he whispered brokenly before turning away and marching off.

That had the effect of a cold shower that froze her to the bone.

"Fro…!" she lunged after him desperately, but then stopped herself with difficulty. She clenched her fists and bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

The other members of the Fellowship were starting to trickle back down the slope to see what was going on. Aragorn, who had never gone too far, walked to the Fellowship and held back those who wanted to approach. Legolas, Gimli and Boromir stopped in their tracks and looked down at the scene curiously instead.

Pippin rushed to Allie's side and then draped a comforting arm around her shoulders, shielding her a little from the eyes of the others. The members of the Fellowship looked in shocked silence for a while more, before Aragorn told them to leave Allie and Pippin alone, and to make sure the Ring-bearer had not wandered off too far all by himself.

"By my beard," Gimli muttered, "what is going on?"

"Nothing that concerns us," Gandalf replied softly.

"It does concern us," Legolas said as he eyed Aragorn and Sam catching up with Frodo. "I am worried that this will affect the Quest. It seems to be a serious matter."

Boromir nodded at the Elf's words. "We cannot have the Ring-bearer be unstable! It could be too dangerous. If this persists, perhaps we shall face the need to designate a new bearer."

Gandalf's eyes flashed. "Frodo is the only Ring-bearer," he asserted darkly. "Do not worry. He will be up to the task."

Boromir fell back silently at this.

Allie slowly unmasked her face upon hearing the conversation and she tried her best to swallow back her tears. She knew what she truly had to do now.

Pippin watched her sadly.

"It is not fair," he murmured after guessing at her thoughts.

"Sometimes doing the right thing is more important than fairness," she replied over the ball in her throat.

* * *

It was getting colder and colder as they made their way higher onto the Caradhras, and soon a snow tempest was upon them. The hobbits all put on their hoods, but the merciless wind still cut through them to reach their skin. Allie was trailing behind the Fellowship with a grim expression on her face, and Pippin refused to leave her side. More than once, members of the company turned back to gaze at her, especially Sam. His eyes were sometimes sympathetic, sometimes reproachful as though he himself could not decide how he should feel.

During one of the breaks where they lay huddled one against the other to preserve some warmth, Frodo sat down like the others with an empty gaze. Even the bitter cold could not manage to pull him out of his daze. He felt as though his heart was as cold as the snow under his feet.

"Frodo," Gandalf's voice made him slowly look up.

"You need to get a hold of yourself," he intimated softly. "I know you have just learned of terrible tidings, but you are the Ring-bearer."

"The Ring…!" he exclaimed hatefully, his eyes suddenly blazing. And then as fast as the anger had come, it was now gone, replaced by misery. "I wish the Ring had never come to me, Gandalf. I wish none of this had happened."

Gandalf looked upon his hooded figure sympathetically. "So do all who live to see such times, but that not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."

Frodo looked up at those words, and Gandalf could see how badly he was hurting. "I don't have time. And I don't know what to do," the hobbit whispered.

"You will see the light when you least expect it, and it will guide you," Gandalf said reassuringly. "There are other forces at work in this world besides the will of evil. For one, Bilbo was meant to find the Ring. In which case, you were also meant to find it… and that is an encouraging thought."

Frodo shook his head. "No, it is not. Do you also mean that Allie was meant to become a wolf? If this is the work of fate, then it is too cruel."

"I do not have all the answers, but the fact that she is a wolf might change everything. Do not despair, Frodo. Everything might turn out better than you expect."

But Frodo just buried his face in his arms. "I do not see how."

Sam, who had been listening to the conversation, could stand it no longer. He stood up and shuffled in the snow to where Allie and Pippin were. Pippin was still in his wolf form, and Allie was cuddled against his side, lost deep in thought.

"Can I have a word with you?" Sam's voice broke her reverie.

Something in his eyes kept her attention. Pippin gazed at her through concerned green eyes, but Allie stroke his fur once in reassurance and then followed Sam a little further off down the mountain.

"He is breaking down," Sam whispered.

Allie knew immediately who he was talking about. She simply nodded sharply once.

"I debated whether I should say this or not for a long time, and have decided that I should." Sam's eyes shone determinedly. "Mr. Frodo needs to focus on accomplishing this quest. I am not the fastest thinker of the group, mind me, but even I know that it is important that the company does not fail in its purpose. Frodo should not have to deal with outside troubles, is what I'm thinking. So... what I mean to say is…" he looked at her as he tried to find the right words.

Allie contemplated him sadly for a moment. "I know what you mean to say, Sam. I know I cannot continue to be a distraction for Frodo. I will leave after we cross the mountain. The rest of my pack is east of the Misty Mountains, and I meant to go to them in the first place. You will only have to deal with me a little further. I am so sorry I brought this upon all of you, especially Frodo. Forgive me."

Sam seized her hand and squeezed it tight and emotion swirled up in his brown eyes. "These are not kind words from me, I know that. The truth is that I was frightened, still am frightened, by what you are. But I know you are a good person. It's just that sometimes you become a little different. I wish things could have been different, for my Master's sake."

"So do I, Sam, with all my heart," she answered as she tried hard to contain her emotions. "There is only one thing I ask of you: please look after Frodo. He will be hurt after I'm gone, so please be there for him."

Sam nodded. "I will. I promise that I will never lose him."

After this conversation, Allie walked back to where Pippin laid with a heavy heart.

"Allie," wolf Pippin said. "At least talk to Frodo before you go."

"I will"_,_ she answered. "After we cross the mountain."

After another thirty minutes of rest, the Fellowship rose to pursue their march. Thick snowflakes still twirled down from the dark skies, denser and denser. The blizzard was augmenting in magnitude.

The world seemed to be made of white and grey, and their visibility was reduced to that of a few steps in front of them. Boromir pleaded with Gandalf to turn back and go through another route, but the Wizard shook his head stubbornly and encouraged everyone to keep going.

"The Redhorn pass is near," he shouted over the storm.

Merry suddenly collapsed in the snow, and Boromir hurried back to pick him up. Merry looked up gratefully through chattering teeth.

Pippin made his way through the snow and rubbed himself against Merry's side, placing himself between his friend and the cutting wind, thus protecting him a bit from the cold. Merry grabbed Pippin's fur gratefully and continued walking.

Frodo was so cold now that he didn't think he could make another step. In front of him, Aragorn was working to open up a path in the snow. Frodo was following him the best he could, but the Ranger's back was now becoming blurry. He rubbed at his eyes with stiff fists. Sam, who was walking behind him, touched his arm encouragingly and Frodo pushed on with clenched teeth.

Suddenly, something warm pressed itself against him, and for a second he forgot everything and just leaned against the source of said warmth. But then, his reverie was broken when he realized that it was Allie in her wolf form. He grabbed her fur in alarm. "What are you doing? Why are you in this form?" he shouted above the storm. "Turn back!"

Allie peered at him with one grey eye and nudged at his face reassuringly with her muzzle.

Frodo still looked at her disbelievingly; why was she doing this when she knew it could accelerate her transformation? But she only nudged him again, and growled softly as though to say: "It's all right. Just for a while."

Her body was so warm under his hand that he instinctively drew close to her again when the wind blew up snow off the ground.

Allie then started walking, leaving light footprints in the snow, and Frodo held on to her and followed, feeling tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

The wolf then paused and turned back to look at Sam, her gaze encouraging him to draw close to her as well. Sam hesitated for long seconds, but finally, he touched her fur tentatively and sighed at the warmth emanating from her.

Thus the wolf and the hobbits marched on forward, following Gandalf and Aragorn's lead.

A few minutes later they came by a narrow passageway carved on the side of the mountain. On the left, there stood a sharp rocky wall, and on the right there was a deep precipice of snow.

"This is the passage! Be careful while crossing!" Gandalf shouted to the Company before engaging himself on the narrow path.

Aragorn followed him closely, and then came the golden wolf, Frodo and Sam. Behind them came Gimli, and then Legolas. At the end came the auburn wolf and Merry, with Boromir as rear guard.

They struggled against the blizzard, half buried in the snow except for Legolas, who trudged past all of them quite lightly, barely leaving any footprints behind.

The wind was howling in their ears, seeming to be whispering dark words.

"There is a fell voice in the air," Legolas commented worriedly.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf suddenly exclaimed darkly, straining his ears.

Snow and small rocks suddenly started falling down the cliff on their left. A dark cloud was quickly approaching with thunder in its midst.

Aragorn closed the distance between him and Gandalf, and yelled urgently to the Wizard: "Saruman is trying to awaken the wrath of Caradhras! We must turn back!"

"No!" Gandalf replied desperately as he raised his staff and stepped over a pile of snow to start chanting strange words into the wind, trying to counteract Saruman's spell.

Frodo and Sam watched in fascination, hidden behind Allie's large shape. The golden wolf suddenly looked up and gave a howl of warning. At the same moment, lightning stroke down from the skies and split the rock of the mountainside straight above them, creating an avalanche of snow.

Boromir let out a deep cry of warning from the rear as he spurted forwards and grabbed Merry's clothes with one hand as his other closed on a handful of fur on Pippin's back.

Allie snarled and harshly pushed Frodo and Sam against the mountainside with her flank. Legolas pulled Gandalf back just in time to avoid the piles of snow and rock crashing down on them like a wave of fury. The avalanche seemed to last forever as its pull dragged them all closer to the precipice. Allie planted her paws as firmly on the ground as she could, but she still felt herself skidding rightwards. Everywhere she looked, there was falling snow.

Suddenly, there was a growl as Gimli received a rock on the head and fell backwards.

"Gimli!" Aragorn cried out as he lashed out and caught the Dwarf by the arm.

The snow started dragging the both of them towards the precipice inexorably. Aragorn gritted his teeth and threw the Dwarf back to safety with the sheer force with his arm. The snow wave covered him as he did so, and he fell on his stomach.

"Aragorn!" Allie called.

Her eyes crossed those of the Ranger for a second, and then she was leaping away from Frodo and closing the distance between her and Aragorn. At the last second, she managed to close her teeth onto Aragorn's sleeve. Snow was rushing past everywhere around her to fall down the precipice, but she constricted all her muscles and held on tight. Aragorn also struggled against the snow tide by kicking his legs.

And then Pippin was beside her as well as he seized Aragorn's other sleeve with his jaw.

"Allie! Let go! It's too dangerous! I've got him!" Pippin growled.

"It seems to be stopping."

They were now all buried underneath the snow and could not see where the others were. The avalanche was slowing down indeed and Aragorn was not sliding anymore either, even though his feet were now dangling precariously in the void. The wolves slowly pulled him back to safety. The three of them were starting to think that the danger had passed when suddenly there was a loud crack somewhere above their heads as a second lightning bolt befell the mountain.

"Pull back! Pull back!" Aragorn screamed to the two wolves, scrambling back towards the mountain wall on all fours underneath the snow.

Before his words could die down, there was pressure over their heads as a new wave of snow and ice crashed down from above.

Somewhere to their left, Boromir let out a groan. Legolas sauntered out of the snow with flushed cheeks, his usual serene expression now seized with urgency as he grabbed onto a solid rock higher up and then grabbed Boromir's shoulder, holding him in place. As for Boromir, he locked his arms tightly around Merry, keeping the hobbit close to him, as he closed his eyes and clenched his teeth at the snow rushing past his head.

Gandalf lifted his staff and muttered an enchantment, creating a luminous shield around himself and Gimli. Pippin saw the light from a breach in the falling snow, and fangs still around Aragorn's sleeve, he pulled him in that direction with all his might.

At that moment, Sam's anguished voice rose from the tumult of the avalanche: "No! Mr. Frodo!"

Allie twirled around at his shout and paddled fervently in a circle as she tried to localize Frodo. The ice and snow all around her had other plans as they penetrated her eyes and veiled her surroundings.

"Sam!" came Frodo's muffled voice from somewhere close to her.

She wanted to cry out Frodo's name but only a growl escaped her throat. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of whiteness as she continued paddling.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, her rear legs encountered the void and slipped off the mountain slope. She let out an alarmed whine and clung to the cliff desperately with her fore legs. The sound of the snow avalanche was loud in her ears, overwhelming her with fear. Her paws were sliding on the ice in spite of her best efforts to hang on.

And then Frodo's figure emerged from the snow beside her, dragged by the avalanche. His frantic eyes met hers for a second as he tried to hold on to the edge of the ground and failed. Under Allie's horrified gaze, he slid off the passage and fell down into the dark void.

Her pupils zoomed in on him as he fell down among piles of snow.

For a second, all rational thought left her. This could not be happening!

Before she could think of a course of action or of a way to save him, her body decided for her. She found herself kicking against the rocky side of the passage and launching down into the precipice after the falling hobbit.

"Allie! No!" Pippin's voice screamed inside her head as she fell into the darkness.

She kicked and pawed at empty air as she tried to speed up her descent. She could see Frodo's cape twirling in the wind underneath her, and she struggled to fall faster until she was at his level. Her jaws closed on a pan of his cape and she drew him to her. The wind was whipping and howling in her ears, flattening her fur against her body as she fell.

Frodo's hands found their way to her fur and he clung to her with the force of desperation.

Her eyes then caught sight of the snowy ground of the mountain slope approaching underneath them. She realized with horror that at this rate Frodo would collide against the ground first and she would fall on top of him. The shock of it would kill him without a doubt.

There were merely seconds now till the impact and she desperately tried to switch over their positions, but they were rotating too slowly.

He was still falling first.

Suddenly, Frodo felt her fur escaping from his grip, as though it was receding. The wind blowing past his face was so fierce that he couldn't keep his eyes open, but he tried to snap them open anyway when he felt hair in his mouth instead. He managed to make out the shape of Allie in her hobbit form.

He wanted to scream out in alarm, but the wind carried his voice away. Half a second later, he felt her wrapping her arms around him and twirling them in the air. He had been falling facing the sky but suddenly now under his wide eyes, he saw the snowy ground approaching.

And then, Allie contacted the slope brusquely on her back with Frodo on top of her. The deep shock shook even him to the core. He could feel her breath oozing out of her chest due to the collision as her grip tightened painfully around him. And then they were rolling down the steep slope over one another. Sharp stones cut through their clothes and flesh and the bumps were painful enough to make him feel as though his bones were being shaken loose.

They rolled off the first slope and were ejected in mid-air. A few moments later, they contacted the ground again and continued rolling downwards, into darkness and snow. Rocks rolled alongside them in a deafening clatter of sounds.

Frodo lost any sense of time or space. He shut his eyes tight, for the sight of sky and ground alternating in front of his eyes was nauseating. All that he was aware of now was Allie's body pressed against his as they rolled and rolled. The certainty arose within of him that they were going to die. The end was here. It was all over.

But just as those thoughts swept over him, he felt their course slowing down. They rolled a couple of more times over each other before slowly coming to a halt.

After all movement ceased, he found himself lying on his side with Allie's head pressed against his chest. He could not feel his body at all, so he did not know if he had broken anything. For long minutes, he just stayed there, too sore and groggy to move. The world was reeling behind his shut eyelids, and it was hard to breathe. The cold wind sneaked to his skin through his ripped clothes, making his cuts burn.

Finally, he forced his eyelids open and a few tears rolled out, freezing immediately upon leaving his eyes. He stiffly lifted his head a little and coughed out snow from his mouth and nose, and only then did breathing become somewhat easier.

He then hoisted himself up on one elbow and peered down at Allie, whom he was still holding tight against him. There was snow in her hair, in her clothes and on her eyelashes. And there was blood too, rolling one side of her cheek.

Frodo cupped her face in a trembling hand and shook her. "Allie… Allie…"

Frodo turned her head carefully to one side and felt his heart constrict when he saw the large gush on her scalp. Her face was terribly pale.

He jerked up to his knees in sporadic and stiff movements in order to lean over her. He reached out one hand and tapped her face urgently as he called out her name. Her cheeks were cold, so cold. He suddenly remembered the way she had lied in Dom the herbalist's place after she had been bitten by the red wolf. The fear he had felt then was now tripled as he knelt beside her now.

He pressed his ear against her chest but in his frenzy he could not tell whether there was a heart beat there. He looked around desperately for help, but everywhere he set his eyes, there was only snow and ice and desolation. They had fallen quite a way down, and were now completely separated from the rest of the Company. It was just him and her. He was the only one who could help her now.

But how?

He lifted her off the ground and carried her up in his arms. The snow around him was knee deep and it was difficult to walk, but he clenched his teeth and moved forward the best he could.

He saw a dark boulder erected further down the slope and he made that his target. He would rest after he had reached it. However, the descent took him longer than he had anticipated. When he finally reached that black boulder, his muscles were stiff and hurting, and he was panting madly. He set Allie down in the snow and paused to regain his breath. He looked down at the expanse of whiteness in front of him and felt despair overwhelm him. He needed to get her to someone who could help her or at least to somewhere off this mountain where it would warmer. However, he knew they were still high up on the mountain slope and there wouldn't be a living soul anywhere nearby.

He leaned over Allie again and used his cloak to clean the blood off the side of her head.

He shook her gently, and then more vigorously, all the while calling out her name. However, her eyes remained closed.

Gritting his teeth and refusing to let panic sweep him entirely off his feet, he carried her up in his arms once more and started descending the slope. He focused all his strength on holding her and stepping over the snow. He walked and trudged like that in the snow for hours, it seemed to him, until all his limbs were numb and tired and his bones felt like dry twigs about to snap. The cold air he inhaled was burning his lungs and suddenly dark spots danced in front of his eyes.

He dropped on his knees in the snow and deposited Allie down. He let himself fall down by her side to regain his breath. His eyes met the grey clouds rolling over their heads. Thick Snowflakes drifted down from their foggy masses and soon covered their clothes with a layer of white.

Frodo stiffly turned towards Allie. Exhaustion combined with despair weighed down on him now. Jerkily, he pulled her into his arms and covered them both with his cape to preserve some warmth.

"Wake up," he pleaded as a cloud of fog came out of his mouth. "I don't know what else to do. You have to open your eyes. Please. Allie. Please."

When his eyelids were about to glide shut, he thought he saw the fingers of the hand resting on her stomach twitch slightly. Blinking his tiredness away brusquely, he hoisted himself up on one elbow. "Allie?"

Hope and relief flared up in his chest when her eyes suddenly opened into pools of silver. "No, don't come," she let out hoarsely.

"Allie?"

Allie seemed not to have heard him. "Stay where you, Pippin," she said out loud as her eyes continued to shimmer. "The drop is too high. Don't come after me. I'm fine."

The silver shine receded, and she batted her eyelids as though she had come awake for the first time. Her mind had been swimming in darkness and pain until Pippin's clear voice had suddenly pierced through her consciousness like an arrow. "Allie, if you still don't answer, I'm jumping after you!" his voice had said.

As she started to take in her physical surroundings through the pounding in her head, she coughed hoarsely just like Frodo had done when he had come to. When she finally cleared up her airways, Frodo's relieved face swam into her field of vision.

She grabbed his sleeve. "Frodo! Are you all right?" she managed to ask.

"This is not the time to be worrying about me!" he replied frantically as he helped her sit more upright with his hands on her shoulders.

She winced when pain irradiated up from her back from where she had collided against the ground. She blinked again and tried to bring Frodo's face more in focus.

"I just feel a bit dizzy," she said as she seized her head. "I will be fine soon."

Frodo touched her cold cheek and his hand came away bloody. "You are still bleeding!"

She brushed two fingers against the gash and winced a little. "Scalp injuries tend to do that."

Frodo found his handkerchief from the depths of his pocket and gently used it to wipe away the blood still oozing out of her wound. Allie closed her eyes and leaned against him.

"I'm so glad that you are awake now," Frodo was murmuring as he worked. "I feared the worst. What were you thinking?"

She coughed again. "I will not die from this. I'm a wolf now, remember?"

"You are still a hobbit before you are a wolf," replied Frodo shortly. "Why did you shield me back when we were falling? It was something that I should have done for you instead. Why did you do that, you foolish brat?"

"My body is now made to withstand that kind of things," she tried reassuring him. "It will not kill me."

"Nonsense!" he exclaimed angrily. "You were in your hobbit form then! Something could have gone terribly wrong! Promise me you will not do something like this in the future ever again! Even if it's for me. If something happens to you…"

Allie eyed the cuts on his hands and at cold and tired he looked. Her eyes then followed the tracks he had left in the deep snow and knew he had carried her. Guilt and love blossomed in her heart in equal proportions.

After a while, she forced herself to say: "There will probably not be a next time, Frodo. I will get you back with the others, and then we will have to part ways. I'm really sorry that I can't keep my promise of staying with you throughout this journey, but please, it is for the best. You must understand."

There was a dead silence after this, as the snowflakes still twirled down around them and got caught in their hair.

Suddenly, Frodo stood up brusquely and marched off in the snow without a word, limping a little from the cut on his leg.

Allie watched him leave with a pounding heart. She rose to her feet, staggered a little and then struggled to catch up to him.

"Where are you going?"

He marched away faster with his fists clenched. Allie finally managed to grab onto his arm as she tried not to reel from the dizziness she felt. However, the second her hand touched him, he twirled around violently and shook her off. She was taken aback at the rage in his eyes. She had never seen him that angry. Not ever since she had known him.

"Why do you care where I go?" he shouted painfully. "Why do you care if I get lost? You mean to leave anyway! So leave now! Don't wait till we get back with the others! Just leave now!"

She looked at him miserably. "Frodo…"

Frodo's blue eyes flashed. "No, Allie. Don't speak if you only mean to give me more reasons why we cannot be together and why you must leave my side! I have heard enough of them for one day!"

Allie sank on her knees on the snow, blood still rolling down one side of her face. Frodo stared at her in guilt, and anger, and hurt. He almost knelt down beside her, but through sheer power of will, turned his back on her and trudged off once more, leaving deep footprints in the snow.

"You don't understand," she spoke quietly behind him as she clenched her hands into fists on her lap. "I want to be with you."

He stopped walking.

"I want to stay by your side, forever. I have never wanted anything more!"

Slowly, he turned around and made it back to her. "Then why do you speak of leaving? Why?"

She tightened her fists even more. "Because I'm in love with you!" she shouted out brokenly. "Why do you make me say this? Why?! It's a love that will destroy us both! Nothing good will come out of it. Nothing!"

Slowly, Frodo knelt down in front of her.

She took a deep breath and pursued in a more subdued voice, "Is this what you want? Is this painful, impossible love, what you really want? You deserve better than this, and that is why I withheld the truth, because the truth would hurt you! Don't you see? Now that you know of it, you are torn between me and the Quest. But you and I both know that the Quest means everything. The fate of the world depends on it. We can't let personal matters hinder us from the paths we must take, you least of all. You should not deviate from your path because of me. I know the choice is hard, and I know that as long as I'm here, you will always be tempted to choose me. So I thought it would be best if I left. Do you think it's easy for me? It's the hardest decision I have ever had to make!"

A tear rolled down, and she quickly rubbed it away with the back of her hand.

Slowly, Frodo let out the breath he had been holding.

"When we were falling down that cliff, I thought we were going to die for sure," he started quietly. "There was no way anyone could survive a fall like that, I thought. And then, for a crazy second, the thought crossed my mind that at least we will be together in death if we cannot be together in life. But then it struck me how foolish that thought was. Who knows what is there after death? It might be the end of all things as we know it. If we want to be together, we can only do it when we are alive."

Allie didn't know what she had expected to say, but it was not this. She looked at him through a veil of tears.

Frodo's gaze held hers gently as he pursued: "Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if we had not been separated when we were little. You might think it is too late now, with the Quest, with the Ring, with your wolf transformation, with everything. But it is not too late. Right now, at this very second, you are still Allie, and I am still Frodo."

He reached out a hand and placed it on hers. "Yes, one day you will be a wolf. One day I will no longer be able to hold your hand like this. But today is not that day. You said that your time is limited, but in a way, so is mine. I have no way of knowing what will find me at the end of my journey. It might be death, it might be eternal darkness. You say nothing good will come out of this, but how do you know when you haven't even tried?"

She felt herself trembling at his words.

"You said I have to choose between you and the Quest," he said in a thick voice, "but I have already chosen, and I chose both."

"Even if you know it will not be easy for either of us?"

Frodo planted his frank eyes in hers. "I don't want easy, Allie. I want _you_. So stay beside me, and don't go wander off on your own again. Just stay."

The wall that she thought stood between them so firmly was now crumbling to pieces under his words, under that light in his eyes. No one had ever fought so hard for her. "Why are you willing to go through all this, Frodo? It will not be without pain in the end; you know it."

He caressed her hair gently. "Why, you ask me? It is like asking why the sky is blue. It is just the way it is."

Allie was speechless at recognizing the words she had spoken to him so long ago. The way he looked at that moment, kneeling there with the whiteness of the snowflakes caught in his dark curls, with the vivid redness of a scratch on one of his cheek, with that light of tenderness and love in his stunning blue eyes, she did not think she could ever forget it.

She wanted to answer him properly for that confession, but found herself unable to say anything past the lump in her throat. All she could do was to cup his face with both hands and press her forehead against his. Frodo was looking at her, a bit stunned, a bit happy. The little clouds of fog that her breaths created were soft and warm on his face.

"I will be yours, then," she finally murmured before drawing his face closer until she kissed him on the lips like she had longed to do since that day in Rivendell.

At first he stayed very still as a corner of his mind refused to believe in the reality of what he was experiencing. He had always dreamed of this moment without realizing it and all things had always meant to lead to this. He knew it now. Her lips were soft against him and she tasted like spring and wilderness, mysterious and magnetic like moonlight on his skin on a dark night.

That exotic feeling chased away the cold, chased away all thoughts. Frodo collected her in his arms and returned the kiss, slowly at first, and then passionately, hungrily, almost roughly.

When they finally broke apart, Allie gently wiped a thumb across her lips, looking at him in wonder as though she was seeing him for the first time. Ever since she was a young girl, she had wondered what kissing someone would feel like. Now that she knew, it blew away even her wildest conjuring.

"That was the best kiss I have ever had," Frodo stated breathlessly.

Allie looked down at her feet. "That was the first kiss I have ever had."

"Really?" Frodo knew he had no right to feel happy that there had not been anyone else in her life, but he did nonetheless.

Allie's pale grey eyes held his. "I suppose that I have been waiting for you all this time."

For only reply, Frodo pulled her into his arms as she smiled against his shoulder.


	36. Hobbit and Wolf

**Hobbit and Wolf**

A merciless gust of wind made Allie and Frodo remember where they were once more.

She took in his appearance and saw the numerous scratches on his arms and legs. Some were bleeding, but others had already dried off with crusts forming on top. Also, she could see that putting weight on his left leg seemed painful.

Allie touched her own scalp wound and felt the gooey texture of half coagulated blood amidst her hair.

She pinned a strand of hair behind her ear and looked back at the snowy mountain cap. "The rest of your Company must be wondering whether we are still alive. But your wounds need to be taken care of first."

"Wait. You are going to transform again, aren't you?" he asked.

There was a glint of worry in his eyes. Allie gave him a small smile. "This is an emergency. It will be all right."

After that, he watched with fascination as she transformed into her wolf self once more.

When she did, she felt her dizziness and pain fade away immediately as the Blood worked to close up her wounds.

She slowly leaned her head down and started licking at the gash on his left leg.

Frodo leaned against her strong frame, taking pleasure at the warm sensation spreading upwards along his leg from the spot that the wolf was licking. It was soothing and gradually took the pain away.

As Allie gently worked her way through all his other wounds, Informant's displeased voice boomed inside her head.

"You scared us," the black wolf rebuked. "Stop acting so recklessly. You are the Queen of the pack! What if something happens to you?"

"Yes, I know the importance of staying alive, Informant."

And then she addressed Pippin instead. "How are the others? Aragorn, Gandalf, Sam? Are they all right?"

"Yes. After you two fell down the cliff, the black clouds dispersed. Gandalf has been cursing at Saruman for quite a while now. But he is relieved that you two are unharmed. Where are you exactly?"

Allie looked around and sniffed at the cold air. "I think we actually fell on the other side of the pass! If I continue straight from here and then down the slope, I will be east of the Misty Mountains."

Pippin was silent for a while as he conveyed this information to Gandalf.

"We will be forced to retrace our steps and find another way to cross the mountains," he informed her gloomily a few minutes later. "The Redhorn pass is too dangerous, and both Aragorn and Boromir are against crossing it after the way Saruman's dark spells broke the mountain."

There was another silence, and then: "Gimli is now suggesting that we pass by Moria. That dark place! I shudder at the thought of it."

Allie stopped licking at the wound on Frodo's arm. "Moria? Wolves don't go under the mountains. It is no place for us!"

"I know. They are still deliberating, but at this rate there is a good chance that Moria is the only path left."

Allie eyed Frodo, and then said: "It seems that Frodo and I were actually lucky to have fallen down from the pass. Be very careful Pippin if you have to cross the mines. Don't lead your unit inside. Tell them to come after me and cross the mountain from the pass. They are wolves; they will be fine in the blizzard."

After five more minutes, Pippin's voice resonated once more: "Aragorn and Gandalf have both settled on Moria. This is it. We are going back down the mountain now. We will reach the doors of the mines by nightfall."

A pause.

"Aragorn says he's very happy that you two are not dead."

The wolf shook her head. Sometimes the Ranger had a pretty wicked sense of humor.

"See you on the other side of the mountain in four days," she replied. "Frodo and I will be waiting for all of you at the eastern doors of Moria. Please… be very careful."

"Don't worry about us, Allie. I will look after Merry and the others."

Allie finished cleaning up Frodo's wounds, and he scratched the back of her ears as a sign of gratitude. She then lowered herself on all fours and looked encouragingly at Frodo. Frodo looked back, confused for a second, before understanding that she wanted him to get on her back.

"I'm heavy," he warned.

She snorted at that as one grey eye settled on him indulgently.

Frodo relented with a shake of his head as he steadily climbed onto the wolf's back. It was his first time riding on her back ever since she had carried him to Bag End twenty years ago. Her frame was larger and wider than he remembered.

He barely had time to seize a handful of fur that she was dashing forward already, leaping over snow. He pressed his legs tight against her flanks, feeling her muscles roll beneath his legs as she ran like the wind, not seeming to mind the burden of him at all.

With one hand he quickly pulled his hood over his head to protect himself against the cutting wind. He also hunched forward a little, afraid that he might be ejected upwards due to her bouncing strides. However, Allie seemed to know how to accommodate him and was always there beneath him again whenever he bounced sideways a little.

With time, he understood her movements and decided to trust her completely. When he did, he found his ride becoming much easier. Allie relaxed as well and increased her speed as they dashed forward as one.

They were making their way horizontally across the flank of the mountain. To their right, dark rocks buried in the snow loomed above them from higher grounds while to their left the slope descended in bumps and hollows.

Everywhere Frodo looked, he saw blinding patches of white snow, gleaming like diamonds under the mid-afternoon sun.

They made regular pauses for Frodo to stretch his legs and for Allie to melt some snow in her mouth and swallow the icy cold water.

At nightfall, Frodo dug up a hole in the snow and he and the wolf cuddled inside. The night was cold and the ground was uncomfortable, but Frodo did not complain as he pressed himself against the wolf's soft stomach and let her tail wrap itself along the length of his back, cradling him like a cocoon.

The next morning, they continued their progress and finally started their descent of the mountains.

That afternoon, the snow under Allie's paws became thinner and it became easier to walk. Allie slowed down her pace and shuffled forward more calmly, allotting them plenty of time to savour the warmth of the sun against their head and back.

Frodo settled more comfortably on top of her as his fingers played with patches of her fur. The wolf turned her head a little and Frodo smiled as he caressed the side of her muzzle.

Allie continued walking till the snow disappeared completely from the side of the mountain. The air was now less chilly as well. Vegetation and other signs of life started to sprout around them as they progressed along the cutting landscape.

When they reached the first patch of green grass, she stopped in her tracks and Frodo slid down from her back, stretching his arms. They walked side by side for a while until they reached a region of white rocks by the mountainside. The wolf looked amidst the rocks and found an opening that seemed to be leading inside.

Frodo spotted it as well.

"Is that the eastern door of Moria?" he asked

Allie nodded.

They were here. The roads through the mines were more treacherous, so she calculated that it might take the Fellowship another day or two to come out from under the mountains.

She sat down on a patch of grass and Frodo sat beside her with his legs stretched out in front of him. Feeling his stomach grumble in hunger, he reached into his bag and fished out some crushed bread. There was also a last piece of dried meat that he offered to Allie. The wolf lapped up the meat from Frodo's hand voraciously and swallowed it without even chewing.

Frodo chuckled at her manners and then lied down on his back with his arms crossed under his head, serving as a cushion. Allie lied down beside him on all fours, licking at her muzzle at little as she wondered if Frodo had more meat in his bag.

Frodo looked up at the clear skies dreamily for a moment, thinking of nothing, but then the image of the Ring flickered in his mind. He frowned at the sudden thought intrusion as his hand went to his neck and groped for the Ring out of reflex.

"It's a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing…" he murmured as he felt its shape beneath his shirt.

The wolf lifted her head and peered up at Frodo through clear eyes. A second later, he felt the air shift beside him as Allie returned to her hobbit form. She was now sitting beside him with an elbow on her knee.

"It is the smallest things that are the most dangerous," she answered. "The real enemy though, is over there." She pointed eastwards, towards Mordor.

"The Ring has a mind of its own, or so Gandalf told me," Frodo pondered.

"It is said that a piece of Sauron's soul is entrapped in it."

Frodo's expression darkened. "Sometimes I really wish none of this is happening. I wish I was still in the Shire, living my life. But then I remember that it is the Ring that has led me to you again. Isn't it funny?"

Her gaze fell down on the chain around his neck from where the Ring hung, and her eyes became troubled for a second.

"You would have set out to find me anyway, even without the Ring. That is what you have told me, isn't it? I don't want to give the Ring credit for letting us meet again, because I don't think it ever intends for anything good to happen."

Frodo glanced at her. "Perhaps you are right."

She smiled. "Don't think about it anymore. The weather here is nice after the coldness of the mountains." She closed her eyes as she lifted her face towards the blazing sun in the blue sky.

Frodo couldn't help looking at her peaceful expression and as she sat back with her arms stretched behind her for support. He had always been attracted to that fiery spirit of hers, but now he couldn't stop looking at her.

When his gaze stopped on her lips, the sensation of that first kiss they had shared flared up vividly in his heart and mind.

As though sensing his gaze on her, she opened her once and stared directly at him.

Frodo paused.

For a long moment, it seemed, they just looked at each other with the same expression on their faces.

She touched the shape of the half-moon pendant under Frodo's shirt with a light finger. Frodo smiled as he placed his hand on top of hers.

Their first kiss had been passionate and hungry, but now, his lips brushed against hers slowly and gently, exploring and savouring each light peck of the lips. His hand came to rest at the back of her neck, and Allie sat up straighter and put her hands on his shoulders. The movement made her hair ripple down both sides of her face, creating golden curtains of intimacy around their heads bent together.

Afterwards, as they sat there with their arms around each other, Frodo's thoughts erred to Aragorn and Arwen as he remembered the song Strider had sung that night in the bog-land after they had left Bree. He suddenly understood the melancholy in the Ranger's voice that he had not been able to understand before.

Then, a more troubling thought crossed his mind, and Allie felt it in the way his body tensed up.

"What are you thinking about?" she murmured.

Frodo pulled away from her, and there was now concern in his features. "Is the Ring not affecting you when we are this close?"

At this, her face became serious as well. "I don't feel its presence. It was only that time on the tree and I felt it and I don't know why. It worries me that it's so unpredictable."

Frodo's hand closed tightly around the shape of the Ring.

Allie rested a reassuring hand on top of his. "But I am fine now. I will tell you if I feel it again."

Frodo was about to reply when he suddenly spotted a wolf walking towards them from beyond the white rocks. Allie felt its presence as well and turned around to follow his gaze. Soon, thirty or so wolves appeared within sight and padded in their direction. A big black wolf with yellow eyes detached itself from the rest to stop in front of Allie.

She went to him and bumped her forehead against his.

"This is my Informant," she told Frodo. "I don't think you two have met face to face yet."

Frodo walked to stand beside Allie under the careful eyes of the black wolf.

"Nice to meet you," he said gravely. "I have heard a lot about you from Allie."

The wolf's eyes hardened a little at that, and he sent a reproachful glance Allie's way, but she merely stared back with a shrug of her shoulders.

She then conversed with the black wolf for a few seconds before turning to Frodo and saying: "It looks like we cannot wait for the rest of the Company here. At nightfall, the mountains will be swarming with Orcs. We need to keep moving."

Frodo was a little concerned at this. "But to where? And how far behind is the Fellowship?"

"I just communicated with Pippin as well, and they are still trudging their way through Moria. Wolves do not normally go into the mountains, and I can feel Pippin's unease, but if they encounter no enemies, they should be out of there by tomorrow."

She refrained from telling him, however, that right at this moment, Gandalf seemed to have lost his way and was hesitating between three archways, and that there were goblins on their trail. She had to trust that the old Wizard would be able to handle the safety of the rest of them.

"Where are we going then?" Frodo asked.

At this, Allie smiled. "The woods of Lothlorien. We will be safe from Orcs there. I have been to those woods once during one of my journeys with Aragorn. The Elves there are different from those of Rivendell, for they are more conservative and more ancient. You will see."

Frodo nodded and dusted off his pants. From the corner of his eye, he saw the black wolf glaring at him intensely with a trace of hostility.

He quickly followed after Allie as she started walking again, and whispered in her ear: "What kind of person was Informant before he became a wolf?"

Allie had told him a little about Hunter's past as a Haradrim, and Councillor's past as an Elf of Mirkwood.

"All I know is that he was a Man once," she replied in the same low tone. "He vaguely alluded to living south of Gondor, but he said he is not from Harad. So I suspect he was one of the Corsairs from Umbar. In any case, he hates to talk about his past."

"He cares about the pack though, doesn't he?"

"I wouldn't call it caring. He simply wishes to stay in his position for as long as he can, and he needs a pack for that to happen."

She was thoughtful for a second. "Even after knowing him for so many years, I still don't know what drives his actions sometimes. Something must have happened in his previous life to make him grow so cold-hearted."

Informant did not care for love nor friendship, even though Allie had often tried offering those to him over the years.

As they walked, a forest with golden leaves suddenly revealed itself beyond the last rocky hill. The hobbits and the wolves stood there in wonder for a second, looking at the mass of majestic trees with their giant boughs gently swaying and their silver leaves singing in the wind.

And then, from the east-side of the forest appeared a series of dark dots crawling on the surface of the rocks, making their way towards them. Informant stepped forward excitedly and gave a long howl. Several howls answered back.

Frodo could only stare in wonder, for the dark dots were more wolves sprinting towards them at a fast pace.

"It's Councillor and his wolves! And I spot Hunter as well!" Allie exclaimed happily, for she hadn't seen them in a while.

"Your pack is huge!" Frodo stammered as his disbelieving eyes took in the now assembled wolves. They covered almost every inch of rock and terrain around them. There were easily three hundred of them now gathered.

"We are three hundred and twenty two," Allie declared, not without pride.

Councillor and Hunter both detached themselves from the rest and marched towards their Queen. Allie brushed foreheads with them, a greeting among wolves, Frodo guessed.

At first he was intimidated by Hunter's enormous size and by his missing eye, but then he found his gaze wandering to Councillor instead. Under the sun, his fur seemed to shine with more shades and tones of brown than he could count.

He had heard so much about the core of the pack from Allie, but this was actually his first time seeing all of them in person. Seeing Allie evolve around them with such ease, he suddenly felt this feeling of estrangement again, as though she was an Elf or a Wizard instead of a hobbit, completely different from him.

Councillor bowed his head briefly upon seeing Allie, and Allie brushed her fingers through the silky fur of his head affectionately.

"What news, Councillor?" she asked in common tongue.

"The Elves of Lorien have learned of your arrival, and they are now expecting you," Councillor replied in his warm voice. "The borders of Lothlorien are not safe upon night fall, so you and your friend might need to hurry."

His brown eyes browsed the scenery around him. "Where is Protector?"

"Moria," she dropped gravely. "There was no other path to cross over to this side of the mountains."

Councillor did not reply, but his posture stiffened.

"Moria!" Hunter snarled. "What foolishness! Those damn Dwarves awoke foul things there with their greedy excavations."

"There is nothing much we can do now except hope that he will come out safely," Councillor soothed him. "But Allie, you and your mate should go into Lothlorien first."

Allie's cheeks flushed red. "He is not my _mate_, Councillor."

If Councillor had eyebrows, he would have arched them.

Allie cleared her throat and set forward swiftly instead.

The wolves all scurried aside to let her pass, but their shiny eyes did not leave Frodo. One of the younger recruits bore his fangs in his direction and snarled quite wildly. Allie shot him a severe glance, and the wolf quickly bowed his head and retreated with a whimper.

"Some of them are not yet used to the scent of other humans," Allie told Frodo apologetically.

Frodo's hand hovered above the hilt of Sting. In spite of himself, he was now intimidated by so many pairs of eyes fixed upon him. Allie sensed his discomfort, and sweeping her eyes across her pack, she let her voice resonate in every wolf's minds, as clear as bell chimes:

"This hobbit here is not an enemy. Remember his scent, for from this day on, I command you to protect him as you would protect me!"

When her command died down, all the wolves jerked up their heads attentively and looked back at her with shiny eyes. Frodo sensed that something must have happened, for the animosity that was in their eyes before had now receded.

Informant was the only one who growled: "You do such unnecessary things."

Allie shot him a glare. "It was necessary, especially for you."

Councillor said nothing, but glanced at his Queen gravely. Allie's command now bound all of them to the Ring-bearer as well. If he was in danger, the wolves would now feel compelled to protect him at the cost of their lives.

They had now arrived at the edge of the woods. The wolves fell back and scattered away like shadows. They did not like the woods, for the Elves were wary of them and did not usually welcome them in.

Frodo and Allie took in the sight of the towering white trees with their golden foliage. The air inside the woods was mysterious and old, and they could feel its breath rippling on their skin as though it was alive, carrying the scent of wild flowers and something else they could not identify.

Allie whispered quietly: "Many people fear these woods, for they think there is an enchantress here, with mystical powers. But that is only the lady of Lorien, and if you don't carry evil in your heart, then you have nothing to fear from her."

Frodo nodded, now feeling a little nervous.

They entered the woods, their feet paddling on the soft grass and fallen twigs. They soon heard the sound of cascading waters and came upon the Nimrodel stream. Allie quickly stepped inside it to bathe her feet in the cool water. Frodo imitated her, and his eyes widened in amazement, for the water seemed to be washing the weariness away.

"Let's sit down for a while," Allie said, laughingly, as she sat upon a rock by the side of the river while still keeping her feet in the water.

Frodo sat down beside her and sighed contentedly. "I like these woods so far," he proclaimed. "It feels like I'm stepping into a forgotten world. The air itself feels ancient, as though coming from a place that no longer exists."

"Yes, I know what you mean. This place is one of the few sanctuaries of Middle-earth where the arm of evil has not yet reached."

Frodo turned towards her. "This Lady of Lorien, have you ever seen her?"

Allie was pensive. "Only once, but from afar. Aragorn was passing through the woods and she came out to greet him. She was all clad in white and her hair was like sunlight. Her face was hidden from me by a veil of light, so I did not get to see what she looks like. But she is the fairest of all the Elves, or so I've heard."

"And you have heard right," a voice suddenly spoke up from above them.

Allie jumped up so fast that her feet sent splatters of water in a circle around her. However, the ferocious expression faded from her face when her eyes spotted an Elf all clad in grey sitting on the top branch of a tree, looking down at them in amusement.

Frodo went to stand beside Allie and looked up at him curiously.

"You have good reflexes, I must say," the Elf conceded meekly upon landing on the ground lightly. "But it is still not enough, I'm afraid."

Following his gaze, Frodo and Allie suddenly saw several other Elves hidden behind the leaves, pointing arrows at them. Allie lifted one hand in a sign of peace. "We are not enemies."

The Elf was still amused. "I know. Word was sent from Rivendell of your imminent arrival. I thought you would be in bigger company. Where are the others?"

"Still traversing Moria," she informed him. "Frodo and I crossed over the snowy slopes of Caradhras instead."

The Elf stared at them for a few seconds. "Both dangerous paths, no doubt. But Moria must be the fouler of the two. If you are set to wait for the rest to arrive, then you can do so at one of our talans. I'm afraid you won't be allowed passage into the heart of the woods until I speak with either Mithrandir or Aragorn."

Allie yielded to his request well enough. The Elf's eyes then traveled to Frodo and to the chain around his neck, and amusement faded from his traits. Frodo sustained his gaze uncomfortably as he suddenly felt like shielding the Ring with one hand.

"The times are troubled as I feared," the Elf finally spoke up gravely. "You bring great evil here, Ring-bearer."

"I wish I did not," Frodo replied stoutly. "But as you said, these are troubled times indeed, and I am only doing what I must."

The Elf looked at him for a moment longer, and then sighed. "Follow me now."

"What is your name?" Frodo asked.

"Pardon my discourtesy; I no longer have the habit of introducing myself to those who are not my kin. My name is Haldir, and I am one of sentinels of Lorien."

Frodo nodded. "I am Frodo. And this is Allie."

"Glor Bereth," Haldir said upon throwing a glance back at her. "I have heard that you are Elrond's protégé."

"Elrond raised me in Rivendell for a time."

"Then you must be accustomed to the ways of the Elves, Elf-friend. But the laws here are different. Soon you will see."

Frodo and Allie exchanged a glance at that, but then followed after Haldir wordlessly.

Evening was already falling, and grey shadows danced in the meadows. The Elf led them beside a thick tree and told them to wait while he climbed up first to throw a rope ladder down for them. When the Elf disappeared into the foliage, Frodo turned towards Allie with a look that reminded her of his trouble-making days as a child.

"Do we really need a ladder?" Frodo asked her impishly.

Allie's eyes widened in silent delight at what he was implying. "No, I think we will manage somehow."

"I hope you have not lost your skills," Frodo threw back at her before grabbing onto the tree branches and easily hoisting himself up the bark.

"Never," Allie replied to his back before following after him.

They continued climbing higher and higher, taking support on the diverging boughs until Frodo passed his head through a circular aperture in the wood of a platform installed up amidst the branches.

Haldir was in the middle of unrolling a ladder, but froze upon seeing Frodo and then Allie climbing up to his level.

"Well, this is a surprise! I did not know Shirefolk were as agile at climbing trees as Elves."

"Only us, as far as I know," Frodo declared quite proudly.

Haldir's eyes were gleaming in amusement as he brought over some blankets and told them they could spend the night here. Then, he left to find his brothers who were keeping watch on a nearby tree, leaving the hobbits to themselves.

Frodo and Allie spread out the blankets and lied down on the talan side by side. For a moment, they just rested in silence, looking up at the last rays of sunlight piercing among the leaves, letting place to dusk.

"This reminds me so much of my childhood," Allie finally said with a voice full of nostalgia. "The Shire, and my platform on the tree. I remember all those summer nights listening to the murmuring songs of the leaves overhead…"

She turned to lie on her side with her cheek resting upon the crook of her elbow. "Is the platform still there?"

Frodo mirrored her gesture, turning to face her as well. "Yes. The old platform rot because of the rain but I replaced it with a new one. It took me a couple of days and a near fall to my death, but I did it."

She gazed at his face in the growing darkness, her gaze travelling from his shiny eyes to the bridge of his nose to his mouth and fine lips. The night conferred soft edges to his features. As though still struggling to believe he was truly here with her now, she reached out a hand to caress his face.

Frodo smiled and turned his head a little to plant a kiss on her palm.

"Allie, do you promise that there will not be any more secrets between us from now on? If there is something troubling you, or if you have a difficult decision to make, you must talk to me about it. Isn't it much better now after you have told me about your transformation?"

She gave him a single nod of assent as her eyes gleamed softly. "I promise."

Frodo smiled and caressed her hair. "That's my Allie."

They stayed like that, just looking at each other, as night fell around them and the forest grew silent. Stars were now twinkling above their heads, beyond the dark swaying boughs of their tree.

After a while, Frodo turned to lie on his back, and Allie imitated him.

The moon was full that night, and soon its silver rays reached them from several holes in the foliage, creating dancing shadows on their clothes and their faces.

Frodo took out his pendant, and tried superimposing it to the moon out of habit. But this time, the other half of the pendant came to rest against his piece as Allie also took out hers from under her leather suit. The stone of the half moons were old and chipped, but the two pieces still fit together as though they had never been apart.

"The moon is full again," Frodo whispered in a voice charged with emotion.

Allie knew he was not talking about the one in the sky.

"Frodo."

Something in her voice made his heart flutter, and he turned to face her wordlessly. She was sitting up beside him now and peering down at him kindly. Her long wild curls framed her face and flowed down to tickle his cheeks as she leaned over him.

"What?" he managed to ask.

"The day that I left the Shire with Gandalf, you said you had something to say to me, and I told you that you should tell me the next time we meet. Do you remember?"

Wordlessly, he nodded.

"Well, what did you want to tell me then?"

A small smile came to play upon his lips. "It's been so long now. I don't remember."

She frowned. "Really? But it seemed important!"

Frodo crossed his arms under his head and looked at her contemplatively. "Well, whatever it was, you should have let me say it back then. It's too late now."

Allie frowned, a bit disappointed. "Well, I bet it was nothing important then! You just wanted to find an excuse to not let me go."

Frodo meditated seriously and then declared: "Perhaps you can help me remember."

She arched an eyebrow. "How?"

"Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Just do as I say."

She narrowed her eyes at him for a second before slowly relenting and shutting her eyes closed.

"No peaking," he warned her.

She crossed her arms across her chest. "I am not."

She waited as the leaves sang all around her in the night breeze. When nothing happened after several seconds, she was tempted to crack one eye open to see what Frodo was up to.

But then, she felt him leaning his forehead against her shoulder. She almost opened her eyes, if not for him reminding her to keep them closed.

"Let's see," he continued quietly, his forehead warm against her shoulder. "We were in this position when you told me that you had to leave with Gandalf."

She could only marvel at the fact that he even remembered these small details. Slowly, she put her hands on his shoulders and nodded. The scenes from that day were playing behind her closed eyelids, and the same sadness she had felt then came back to haunt her a little.

He placed a kiss on her cheek. "And then you kissed me on the cheek as you told me goodbye."

She started breathing faster, trying hard not to open her eyes.

"Then, at that moment," Frodo's voice resounded near her ear, "what I wanted to tell you was…"

There was silence after those words as she waited, with her heart pounding in her chest.

After several seconds, she suddenly felt his lips grazing hers softly. It was a mere brush, so tender, so transient, like the batting of butterfly wings. And yet it left her shaken because it had been so unexpected.

She snapped her eyes open and met those, amused, of Frodo.

"What?" she exclaimed. "You wanted to kiss me then? But you said you had something to say!"

He unrepentantly shrugged his shoulders.

She raised a fist, intending to punch him in the chest. "You teasing rascal!"

But he seized her wrist and drew her close to him with a wicked smile.

"Let go," she warned with one eyebrow raised.

"I was not done yet," he stated amusedly. "I did have something to say."

She rolled her eyes. "You probably truly forgot."

He pulled her towards him. "I just wanted to say I love you."

She knew already how he felt about her, and yet hearing him say those words out loud still left her rattled. She looked back at him with wide eyes.

He pursued softly: "Although, back then it was more like: "I like you, please don't go." But now the words have been upgraded, of course."

At this, she gave him a joyous smile from the bottom of her heart. "You truly are a rascal, Frodo. My favorite rascal in all of Middle-earth."

Frodo lied back down on the talan with his arms under his head. "What an honor! And you, will you always be my little brat?"

She smiled and lied down against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I wouldn't desire to be anything else."

They stayed still and quiet after that.

After a while, Frodo felt his eyelids become heavy, but he forced his eyes open again. He didn't want to fall asleep just yet; he wanted to savour every second of being able to hold her like this. She was like a little bundle of warmth by his side, and he wondered how he had been able to live so long without her.

"Frodo?" she murmured.

"Mmm?"

"What if this is all a dream? What if I wake up tomorrow and you will be gone? And none of this ever happened?"

He turned his head and deposited a kiss on her temple. "Don't say that, Allie. How can this not be real? I have never felt more real in my entire life."

She snuggled more comfortably against him, reassured.

"I wonder what Uncle Bilbo would think of all this," she muttered again after a moment, half-asleep.

"He'd be happy for us," he answered slowly as his eyes finally fluttered closed.

"He might write the story of our adventures in his red book," her voice seemed to reach him from afar as he drifted off.

He wanted to answer her more thoroughly, but only a sleepy "mmm" escaped his lips.

"Good night, Frodo," she said as she laced her hand in his.

That night, Frodo dreamt he was back in Bag End, and he was reading a story from a red covered book to a young hobbit lass. The lass would clap delightfully at the end of each sentence, and as he flipped the pages one after the other, she would look up at him with her wide and curious eyes and ask: "And then? And then what happened?"

He would not recall this dream the next morning, but later, much later, traces of it would come back to him, like frayed wisps of white smoke.

And the detail he would remember most vividly would be the sunlight in the hobbit girl's golden head and the clear skies in her eyes.


	37. The White Wheel

**The White Wheel**

Haldir watched in amusement as his two hobbit guests went at each other with their swords, with the clash of steel against steel echoing clearly under the high treetops. The Elf paused in polishing his bow when he witnessed a particularly intricate and intense exchange of blows, which Allie ended up winning with the edge of her sword pointed towards Frodo's chest.

Frodo was heaving heavily and Allie quickly wiped off a bead of sweat rolling down the side of her face.

Haldir thought their swordsmanship was impressive considering they were hobbits; he was particularly impressed with Frodo when Allie told him he had only started learning it in the recent months.

"How come you still cannot disarm me?" Allie teased with her sword at the ready again.

Frodo stretched the fingers of his sword hand painfully and then grabbed the hilt again. He didn't say anything, but a glimmer of challenge lit up in his eyes.

"This time I will," he assured her quite seriously.

Allie made a dubious sound with her tongue.

Her eyes surveyed him attentively, foreseeing his attack by noticing the tensing of his leg muscles. His blade rang as it met hers. Allie dug down from under their crossed blades and tried to hit him with her fist. Frodo had learned from her that using their hands was fair play when battling it out with an enemy. Anything was fair play, actually.

A month ago, Frodo would probably have received her blow in the stomach, but this time his hand flashed out and blocked hers. Allie immediately drew back and then crouched down to swing her sword at his legs.

Frodo jumped back to avoid it, not missing the expression of approval on Allie's face. She had always complained about his footwork, so he now paid extra attention to his feet.

Tired of defending himself, he passed to the offensive now, dashing towards her and slashing his sword down. Allie intercepted it easily, and then pressed forward, forcing Frodo's blade back.

"How come you have so much strength for a lass?" he hissed through clenched teeth as he seized the hilt with both hands.

Allie smirked through the effort. "No talking. I thought you were going to disarm me this time."

Frodo suddenly stopped pressing forward and fell back. Allie's blade swung down when it didn't encounter any more resistance. Taking advantage of this momentary breach, Frodo lunged towards her.

Allie lifted her sword again with a frown. Did he really think this would work?

She paused, however, when she noted that his sword was not raised; he was holding it at his side as he charged towards him. Silly hobbit! Did he forget everything she had taught him? He was completely vulnerable right now!

She hesitated.

That moment of hesitation was all Frodo needed to seize her sword hand and push it to the side. At the same time, he wrapped his other arm around her and pressed Sting against her back. Allie froze in his embrace.

"And you are dead," Frodo whispered victoriously in her ear.

Allie slowly released her breath. "Frodo Baggins," she stated calmly while a storm brew in her eyes. "Do not play the vulnerable card on me ever again!"

Frodo pushed away from her with a mischievous expression and sheathed Sting quite proudly. "Well, no matter the method, I managed to disarm you just like I told you I would."

Allie sighed. He really was her weakness, and he knew it.

"It's time to find you another teacher," she groaned, also sheathing her sword.

Haldir jumped down from the branch from he was perched, laughing.

"All is fair in battle," he said when his laughter died down. "You have to use your enemy's weakness against him. It seems the Ring-bearer has already learned that."

Frodo nodded meaningfully, and Allie gave him an indulgent smile.

"Nonetheless, your swordsmanship is impressive, Glor Bereth," the Elf added in her direction.

"I was taught by Glorfindel," Allie replied, playing with the hilt of her sword a little.

"Ah, I know that name. He has taught you well. What about archery then?"

The Elf took off the bow that always hung at his back, and his dexterous fingers played with the string.

"I know how to use one in emergency situations, but I cannot speak for my aim," she answered.

Frodo sat down on the ground cross-legged, and picked up an apple to eat as he followed their exchange. Haldir's eyes set on the fruit, and he loaded his bow with an arrow: "Frodo, throw the apple in mid-air."

Frodo understood what he meant to do, and he complied quite amusedly.

He stood up and played with the apple a little, but instead of throwing it upwards, he threw it straight towards Haldir with all his strength. Hobbits were known to have good aim, and rocks could become deadly weapons in their hands.

Haldir's eyes widened for the split of a second upon seeing the apple fly towards his face, but then his finger released the string and the arrow sliced the apple in half. Both halves landed at his feet with a thud.

Allie and Frodo laughed, clapping.

"Not quite the challenge you hoped it would be for me, am I right, little one?" Haldir asked with one arched eyebrow.

"I saw your surprised face for a second," Frodo answered. "That was enough for me."

Haldir laughed clearly, like bell chimes falling on still water. "Why don't you throw me another one? This time you will not get a reaction out of me."

Frodo smirked, gladly accepting his challenge, and took hold of several more apples.

Allie sat there watching them with a smile on her lips. It was quite a sight; a Hobbit and an Elf having fun together, challenging each other, their differences and concerns forgotten for the time being. She knew Haldir was supposed to be on guard along with his brothers, but here he was, merrily wasting his arrows on a handful of apples.

And Frodo looked happier than she had seen him in a long time. As he ran around on the grass, trying to find Haldir's blind spot, he looked so much like the little hobbit boy she used to know, with dimples in his cheeks when he smiled, and bright blue eyes full of life and innocence.

And then suddenly Pippin's alarmed voice rose in her head, crying out: "Allie, I have bad news. Gandalf has fallen!"

She scrambled to her feet, turning her back to the other two.

"What? Where are you now?"

"We… we just came out of Moria. But Allie! Gandalf… Gandalf is lost!" His voice was thick with sorrow.

She felt her own heart beating unsteadily. Gandalf… dead? No, the Wizard would never die so easily.

"Pippin, calm down, and tell me everything."

But instead of words, images suddenly invaded her mind.

Gandalf standing alone on a thin bridge, facing an enormous monster made of shadow and flames.

The bridge breaking under Gandalf's spell, dragging the foul creature in its crumbling fall.

The whip of fire catching the Wizard's ankle and pulling him off the bridge.

"Fly, you fools!" Gandalf's voice resounded in her spirit with the same intensity that had overtaken Pippin when he had witnessed the scene.

She pressed a hand against her chest. "No… this cannot be…"

She turned towards Frodo, who was still throwing apples at Haldir, unaware of what had just happened. The thought of telling him the news abhorred her; she knew how deeply he cared for the Wizard.

"Can the Valars not grant him one moment of peace?" she whispered to herself, feeling distraught.

Frodo caught her expression out of the corner of his eye, and he slowly lowered his hand holding the apple.

"Allie, is everything all right?"

The expression on her face made him run to her.

"I just received news from Pippin," she managed to say. "He is out of Moria."

Frodo's concern melted into glee. "Finally! That is good news. Why the long face then?"

Allie grabbed his hand. "Frodo… listen to me and try to keep your calm." She swallowed. "Gandalf… did not make it. He fell into darkness after fighting with a demon of the mines."

The apple dropped from Frodo's hand as horror invaded his blue eyes. "What?"

Allie squeezed his hand tighter and steadily returned his gaze with a painful nod.

Frodo slowly shook his head. "No… No. There must be a mistake. I mean… he is Gandalf! He is… he cannot die!"

Haldir approached them. "What is wrong?"

"Gandalf did not come out of Moria," Allie informed him with a shake of her head.

Horror washed over the Elf's smooth features. "The Wizard? Mithrandir? What terrible tidings! Lady Galadriel will be gravely affected by this news. I must send a messenger to her at once. Excuse me."

Upon saying this, he quickly disappeared among the trees.

Frodo felt grief wash over him in waves, but his eyes remained dry. He managed to say in a haunted voice: "The last words he spoke to me were about not losing hope. But without him here, hope is lost, isn't it? How can we do this without Gandalf?"

She didn't know the answer to that. She wished she could tell him that there was still hope, but Gandalf was the wisest and the most powerful of their allies. He was the one who was supposed to guide them to Mordor. Without him, she didn't know either what they should do. They were now like a pack of wolves without a Queen, with its members left to their own devices, lost and aimless.

"We will save the discussion of future plans for later" she finally replied. "Aragorn is leading them now. They will come here at nightfall."

Frodo shut his eyes painfully for a second, and then opened them again.

When he had set out on the quest, he knew it would be dangerous; he knew they might not make it out alive. But dealing with his first loss was more poignant and tearing than he ever thought possible. Death was suddenly a very realistic shadow looming above each of their heads, and not even the sun in Lorien could block out its growing claws.

As though in response to his thoughts, rain clouds masked the sky and a small drizzle began to fall upon the woods, casting everything in tones of melancholy.

"It looks like the Lady has received the news," Allie whispered as she looked up at the skies.

The rest of the Fellowship finally arrived in Lothlorien a little before nightfall. Both their limbs and their hearts were heavy, and traces of deep grief still lingered upon their features. Their worries lifted a little, however, upon setting eyes on the trees of Lorien with their golden leaves.

Frodo and Allie sprung up on their feet upon seeing them arrive behind Haldir.

All the members of the Fellowship brightened up somewhat when they saw that the two hobbits were safe and sound in front of them. They came to surround Frodo and touched him comfortingly, expressing their joy upon seeing him in such good health. Frodo was touched by their concern, and thanked them profusely.

Legolas came to Allie. "Are you hurt?" he inquired.

Allie touched her scalp wound and knew the Elf's keen eyes were able to see the half healed scar. "Nothing major, but I appreciate your concern."

The Elf simply nodded. "Aragorn has told me of his travels with you. Be careful of the Ring."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"When the Crebains from Dunland flew over us, a darkness came over us, but not from the birds."

That was when the Ring had forced her to transform. "I know," she simply said, and Legolas left her to ponder the real meaning of his words.

"Allie!" Pippin cried out upon appearing at the back of the group.

She went to him and they shared a long hug. "I'm glad you are all right!" he murmured against her ear. "I was afraid something would happen to you while I was not by your side."

"It looks like the road you took to get here was way more dangerous than mine. I'm glad you are safe and sound, Pippin. I wouldn't know what to do without my Protector."

Pippin smiled at that and ended the hug. They bumped their foreheads gently.

Her eyes then crossed those, weary, of Aragorn, as he walked into the meadow behind the others.

She went to him and looked up at him sympathetically. He was the leader of this group now, whether he liked it or not.

"Haldir already told us he cannot allow us access to the heart of Lothlorien because of the Ring that Frodo carries. He said he would only discuss that matter further with you. I know how tired you must be, but you have to convince him to let us pass through the woods," she said gravely in greeting.

Aragorn nodded, and then motioned to Frodo who was now conversing with Sam and Merry. "How is he?"

Allie's grey eyes settled on him sadly. "He is heartbroken, but he knows he has to keep going."

At that moment, Boromir came to them. He looked tired, but smiled widely nonetheless upon seeing her.

"I don't know many grown Men who would have survived a fall like that. Pippin kept telling me that you and Ring-bearer were both safe, but my heart could not believe it until now."

Allie smiled. "As I was saying to Aragorn, perhaps falling over the pass has been a blessing in disguise. We got to avoid the darkness of Moria."

Boromir's smile faltered at that. "I do not know what hope there is left without Gandalf."

"I will lead you now," Aragorn suddenly asserted. There was a new glint in his piercing eyes that was not there before. "Gandalf and I both pored over maps of Middle-earth for many hours, back in Rivendell. I know which way he intended to go, and I will guide you from now on."

"But first, we need to cross the Lorien," Allie reminded them. "Let us all hope the Lady will grant us passage."

"Where is Haldir?" Aragorn inquired. "I wish to speak to him now."

He saw Haldir conversing with Legolas and approached them.

Allie suddenly saw Boromir glancing at Frodo's back with troubled eyes. His gloved hands were fiddling nervously with the hilt of his sword. She had seen him eyeing Frodo that way many times before, and she knew the reason for it.

"Boromir," she called out softly, startling him a little.

"What is it?" he answered.

"Have you ever seen a moth getting burned by the flame of a candle?"

That was an unexpected question, and for a second the Man of Gondor found himself dumbfounded.

"Well… certainly I have, yes," he replied in a tone that questioned where she was going with this.

"Do you know why they do that?"

He pondered over it for a second. "It seems to me that they are attracted to flames, or at least bright sources of light. I am afraid I'm not much of a naturalist. My brother Faramir would probably be able to give you a more detailed answer."

"They are not attracted to it," she replied simply. "Moths navigate in a straight line by using light references such as moonlight or starlight. However, when they encounter a light as bright as that of a candle, it confuses them and makes them correct their path, leading them to fly into the flame instead of continuing straight."

"Why are you telling me this?" Boromir asked.

She looked at him piercingly. "Moths fly to their demise because they don't know any better, but you do."

Boromir slowly tensed.

"What does this have to do with me?"

She approached him and quietly whispered: "I know the Ring seems like an incredible and alluring light right now, an answer to all your problems, the weapon of salvation. But it is none of that. Don't stray from your path, Boromir. Don't go into the flame. You know better."

Boromir's eyes widened. "I never thought of using it! We have already decided that destroying it was the only way, and I shall abide by that decision till the end!"

"I really hope you will. But just in case you start thinking differently, remember that the Ring is not the answer!"

"I am a man of my word!" Boromir cried out, offended, and marched off.

Allie watched him go worriedly. She really hoped he meant it.

Pippin approached her. "What was that all about?"

"Keep an eye on Boromir, Pippin."

Her Protector understood immediately. "The Ring?" he simply asked.

Allie nodded, and sighed. Why did there seem to be so many problems, all of a sudden? The time of light playfulness was over. With the coming of the rest of the Fellowship, the idyllic illusion of peacefulness shattered, and coming back to reality had never seemed so hard.

Night was falling now in the woods, and the figures of the companions were slowly engulfed by stretching shadows. In one corner, she could hear the whispered words passing between Aragorn and Haldir. Haldir looked torn; he wanted to help them, but the laws of his land forbid him from granting them entrance.

Frodo was now sitting against the bark of a large tree, slightly in retreat from the others. Allie silently sat down beside him with her chin on her knees.

"I knew of the concept of death," Frodo spoke up in the dark. "But I always naively thought it was something that only happened to others. I never thought it could hit us personally… so soon."

"Gandalf was extraordinary. I owe him my life. He saved me back when I was being chased by the villagers. A wolf never forgets to repay a debt. But alas, I couldn't do anything for him in this lifetime," she murmured sadly.

She raised her head from her knees when she felt him leaning against her side. She rested her hand on his thigh comfortingly.

"If you are tired, sleep," she encouraged him gently.

But at that moment, Aragorn's voice reached them: "Let's keep moving. Lady Galadriel wishes to see us."

Allie brightened up at that. "Frodo! We will be able to pass through the woods! I knew Aragorn would be able to convince the Elves!"

Frodo couldn't find any joy in that. "Well, let's go then."

The Company walked through the dark silent woods, following Haldir and two other Elves. They crossed a stream and walked some more among the trees before they came upon the Elven city of Caras Galadhon.

Even in the dark, the city gleamed in a white-blue light that seemed to emanate from the trees themselves. The city was built around the biggest tree the Fellowship had ever set eyes upon. Its ancient trunk was white, and its diameter was that of several meters. A winding silver staircase snaked around it, climbing up in a spiral until it disappeared into the thick foliage further up.

When the Fellowship was done admiring its structure, they all started climbing one after the other. The ascension was long, but somehow it was not tiring. The lights bathed them softly in a mysterious aura, softening their features and conferring a dream-like dimension to their surroundings.

Finally they reached the end of the stairs and came to stand upon a big wooden talan.

And there, they saw Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel. He was kingly, and she was stunning, all clad in white and with hair as golden as sunlight, just like in the legends they had heard.

Celeborn greeted them one by one by name as the lady remained silent but watchful. Aragorn talked about Gandalf's fall into Moria, and Celeborn's traits fell.

"I had hoped it would be false news," he declared gravely.

Aragorn then started informing the Elf of the events that had unfolded under the Misty Mountains. Allie was focusing on their conversation, when suddenly a voice filled up her mind, gentle and yet hard at the same time. Ancient.

_Glor Bereth, leader of wolves._

She looked up vividly and dived into the bottomless gaze of Galadriel. It felt as though she was falling through blue waters for a moment, before the lady's voice continued inside her head: _Your eyes are earnest and your heart is valiant, but unbeknownst to you, there is darkness inside of you. A darkness that my eyes cannot identify but that my spirit can strongly feel._

Allie felt her heart rate accelerate, and backed away a little at those words. Her eyes, however, were kept strained to those of Galadriel, perhaps in spite of herself.

_You do not understand it clearly, but you know what I speak of. This darkness, it is a part of you and yet it is separate from you. If you continue on this quest, you might pose a bigger threat to the Company than the weapon of the enemy._

_I would never hurt anyone from the Fellowship,_ she replied in her mind.

Galadriel's eyes narrowed a slight. Rare were the people who could manage to focus their thoughts enough to converse back with her in this manner.

_No,_ she admitted. _But _it_ might._

That chilled the hobbit, and she meant to ask what her words meant, but Galadriel's gaze had already moved past her.

One by one, she looked into the eyes of the rest of the Fellowship, and one by one, they all ended up lowering their gazes. Boromir, in particular, seemed especially affected by her.

Galadriel finally freed them from her gaze and now fixed a distant point instead.

"The Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains, while the Company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil."

She then turned her eyes onto Frodo, and Allie felt the power and presence of Galadriel's consciousness as it blew past her and projected itself onto Frodo.

And then as fast it came, it was now gone.

Allie looked at Frodo worriedly, but he didn't look back.

Later, when they were sitting on their temporary beds set in the hollow parts of the tree trunk, Allie turned to him and asked him:

"What did the Lady say to you?"

He let out a humourless laugh. "She just bid me welcome, but she had a very unique way of doing so. Her voice in my head was so strong that it disoriented me for a while."

She was skeptic at this. "Is that all? Did she not… tempt you with something?"

"Tempt me? No. If you must know the whole truth, she actually warned me."

He looked around him at the others and lowered his voice as he approached his head to Allie's and whispered: "She told me to beware of the danger arising from within the Fellowship." His eyes set on Boromir sitting a few yards away with his back to them. "But I have known this for a while already."

Allie felt her heart pounding. After what Galadriel had told her, she now had a feeling the Elf Queen was warning Frodo against her as well. But that was ridiculous. She would die before she brought harm. But still, the Lady's words were worrisome.

"Why are you talking of temptation? Did she tempt you with something?"

Frodo's voice snapped her back to the present. Her grey eyes became troubled, but he was looking at her expectantly, and she had sworn not to keep things from him any longer.

She sighed and murmured darkly: "No. I asked because I know she has tempted Boromir and Aragorn… and even Pippin. He told me about it." She didn't linger on that part and instead pursued: "But she has warned me too. She warned me against _it_. I do not know exactly what she was referring to, but I think it's something related to my wolf self."

Frodo scrambled till he was sitting in front of her, and Allie was a little startled at the amount of concern that now filled his eyes. "What do you mean?" he pressed urgently. "Will the wolf constitute a danger to you?"

Allie sighed and rubbed circles on her forehead tiredly. "You keep talking as though the wolf and I are separate entities, but the wolf is me, and I am it. It cannot hurt me, just as you would not hurt yourself."

Frodo fell back a little. "But… you said that not transforming into a wolf can be painful."

"It's painful because…" a light of understanding suddenly appeared in her eyes. "Because I can feel the Blood ripping through my flesh. The Blood is what makes me transform, after all. Could Galadriel be referring to that, I wonder?"

A moment of thoughtful silence fell in which none of them said a word.

Everywhere around them now rose the sweet laments of the Elves who were singing their goodbyes to Gandalf. Legolas joined them for a while, before grief overtook him and made him seek solace away from prying eyes.

Allie snapped out of the trance she was sliding into when she felt a pressure on her legs. Looking down, she saw Frodo resting his head down on her lap, and gave him a small smile.

They stayed in silence after that, listening to the Elves sing of their heartache as to Gandalf's passing. Frodo absent-mindedly seized a strand of her blonde curls and twisted it between his fingers. In spite of himself and of the peacefulness of this moment, the face of Gandalf, as Frodo had seen him last, intruded in his mind. He thought back to the Wizard's soothing smile, and the crinkle in his eyes, and felt sorrow creep up on him again.

"Stop thinking and go to sleep," Allie said upon seeing the troubled lines on his forehead.

She traced warm fingers across his brow to smooth them out, and then slid her fingers inside his mass of dark curls, gently massaging his scalp. Frodo let out a small sigh and closed his eyes again.

She was right; some things were better left to the light of morning.

Frodo didn't know when he had finally dozed off, but something suddenly pulled him awake. His eyes snapped open as sleepiness receded away from his head. At first, he looked around, wondering what light or sound had awakened him so suddenly, but everything was quiet.

He was still resting his head on Allie's lap, and she was fast asleep against the trunk she was leaning. Strands of hair, shining golden under the moonlight, hid one of her eyes. Frodo sat up quietly without disturbing her and then gently and carefully pinned the wayward strand of hair behind her ear. Allie stirred a little but did not wake up.

Frodo just allowed himself to gaze at her tenderly for long seconds, crouched on the balls of his feet. Her skin looked so pale under the filtering rays of moonlight, and her traits were relaxed and gentle. She looked fragile in her sleep, with no barriers or walls erected around her for once. In spite of all the fights she must have gone through as a wolf throughout the years, and in spite of all the responsibilities she now carried as the Queen of a large pack, she was still just a hobbit lass at heart.

A rustling sound behind him made him turn around vividly. And there, a few feet away, Galadriel passed through their sleeping forms without a sound, like a whisper of wind through the trees. The edges of her white dress trailed lightly on the moss of the talan as she walked past him barefoot.

As though pulled by some divine force, Frodo rose and followed her.

She led him along a winding stone staircase going down to the roots of the giant tree. He followed her slowly, the stone steps cold under his feet, and the sound of cascading waters crystal clear in front of him.

Galadriel stopped beside a small clear source spurting out from a crack in the wood. Frodo had never heard water sound quite like that; it was deafening and yet subtle at the same time, as though each drop was a musical note in the melody of the whole.

He advanced towards the Queen Elf until only a stone pedestal separated them. Galadriel probed him with one piercing blue eye, and then dipped a silver jug inside the water in one fluid motion. She then took it out again, and some water quietly splashed back into the pond. She stood facing him with an unreadable expression.

"Will you look in the mirror?"

After darting his eyes to the pedestal between them, he carefully answered: "What will I see?"

Galadriel smiled from the corner of her mouth and slowly poured the contents of the jug inside the silver basin resting on top of the pedestal.

"Even the wisest cannot tell," she answered over the sound of pouring water. "For the mirror shows many things. Things that were… things that are… and some things… that have not yet come to pass."

A glance into the future, Frodo thought. It was tempting, so tempting to know what would await him at the end of his journey, and perhaps even beyond.

But whatever he saw, would he be able to deal with it? He was the one who gave Allie the speech about living in the present; if he looked at his future now, he could ruin it all.

Galadriel seemed to guess at his inner turmoil, and said: "Not all things that the mirror shows come to pass. Sometimes, the choices one makes can change the once determined trajectory of fate."

Frodo found himself approaching the pedestal in spite of himself.

He peered over it and looked at the still waters. At first he saw only the starlit night reflected in its depth, along with his own apprehensive face. Just when he thought he would not see anything more, circles came to disturb the surface of the mirror, as though he had just dropped a pebble in the center of it. The circles grew and grew, and when the largest one touched the sides of the basin, images started to appear.

There were faces in the water, looking at him. Frodo realized they belonged to the members of the Fellowship. One by one, their faces flashed by; they were all looking back at him sadly: Sam, Merry, Legolas, Pippin, Aragorn, Gimli… everyone except Boromir. He knew what that meant.

The vision shifted.

There was now a lone figure walking in the wasteland, clad in white. Frodo frowned. Was that Saruman? The figure walked and walked, seeming to come closer and closer to the surface of the mirror. Then, it paused and lifted its head. Before Frodo could see its face, the image faded to white.

And then it cleared again, once more. His heart constricted when he set eyes upon a familiar scene. It was Allie sitting with her back to him on the high pile of boulders of Rivendell. He still remembered that scene vividly. In the mirror, Allie turned around, but this time, she was beaming brightly when she set eyes on him. The smile took his breath away, and he started to smile back as he leaned down closer to the surface of the water.

But then the image disappeared, and the succession of images that followed made his stomach constrict painfully. First he saw the golden wolf enclosed in a small iron cage, snarling and thrusting against the bars with blood streaked fur. Orcs sat around her, laughing at her, taunting her.

Then, he saw the flash of a ripped off half moon pendant amongst fallen bodies. He didn't know whether it was his or hers.

And finally he saw himself being tossed forward as he landed at the foot of a dark throne.

All then faded to black, but the mirror seemed to be growing, with the darkness engulfing him as it swept past his head. Suddenly, out of the dark abyss, a single eye grew till it filled the entire space in front of him.

Frodo was frozen, unable to either move nor cry out. The Ring dangled out of his shirt, inches above the water. It was heavy… so heavy. Frodo found himself leaning lower and lower. The Eye of Sauron constricted greedily, staring right at him. With a yell, Frodo clasped the Ring and pushed back from the basin with all his strength.

He felt the exact moment that the magnetic pull between him and the mirror ruptured, and a second later found him on his back at the foot of the pedestal, panting madly.

He swiftly rose himself on one elbow. Galadriel was still staring at him out of one eye, unmoving like a statue, and unaffected by the horror.

"I know what it is you saw," she said gravely. "For it is also in my mind. You saw glimpses of the future, glimpses of what might come to pass if you should fail."

Frodo rose shakily on his legs. "How likely will this future come to pass?"

Galadriel treaded towards him slowly. "I cannot tell you that. But I can advise you on how to avoid it. The Fellowship is breaking, Frodo. It has already begun. He will try to take the Ring. You know of whom I speak. One by one, it will destroy them all."

Frodo couldn't get the image of the wolf in the cage out of his mind. Was he leading her to that fate? His confidence drained away.

"I can't do this alone. This is beyond me."

"You are a Ring-bearer, Frodo. To bear a Ring of power is to be alone."

Galadriel lifted her hand, and sitting on one of her fingers, there shone a Ring. "This is Nenya, the Ring of Adamant. And I am its keeper."

Frodo looked up at her face uncertainly, and for the first time, a real and sympathetic smile stretched her lips, softening her features. "This task was appointed to you, Frodo Baggins. And if you do not find a way, no one will."

Frodo clasped the Ring tight in his hand and breathed in deeply. His blue eyes were vulnerable when he confessed: "I know what I must do then. But it's just… I'm afraid to do it."

Galadriel knelt down to look at him in the eye. "Even the smallest person can change the course of the future."

With these words, she left him, climbing back up the stone steps graciously, and like a fairy, faded into the moonlight. Deep in thought, Frodo went back to where his companions lied, still sleeping.

He paused upon seeing Allie lying against the tree where he had left her a few minutes ago. She was still breathing evenly with her eyes closed. He leaned against the trunk beside her and gently seized her hand that was resting on her stomach. "Oh Allie," he murmured sadly. "How I wish none of this was happening."

She stirred and curled her fingers around his hand briefly before relaxing again. Her eyes opened a slight and she looked at him sleepily. "Frodo?" she mumbled.

"Shhh, sleep."

She edged closer to drape her arm across his chest and to nest her face in his shoulder. Frodo rested his head against hers and took in the pleasant warmth of her body.

But sleep eluded him for the rest of the night.

* * *

The next day was the day of their departure from Lorien. As the company got their things ready, Allie looked around for Frodo but did not find him.

She set out into the golden woods, wondering whether he had strayed off to take a walk. As she silently treaded on the soft green grass, she came upon Sam instead.

Sam halted in his walk, and she simply nodded to him once in salute before pursuing her way. A second later, the sound of running footsteps rose behind her, and then Sam appeared by her side, his cheeks slightly flushed.

"Allie…"

She twirled around, a bit surprised. "Yes?"

Sam shuffled from one foot to the other awkwardly. "I haven't had a chance to tell you this yet, but I just want to say… thank you for saving Mr. Frodo's life back on the mountain."

His brown eyes were earnest. "If you hadn't jumped down that cliff after him, he would have met his end for certain. It was my fault back then for not holding onto him tightly enough."

Allie acknowledged his thanks with a nod of her head. "I did what I had to do. Get your things ready for departure, Sam. Once we leave the Lorien, there will be no more safe havens."

Sam pulled at his hair a little and muttered madly under his breath as she turned away to leave.

"Allie!" he finally called out again.

She turned her head slightly.

"I… I know I have said some terrible things to you before, and I sincerely regret all of it. If I'm allowed to be frank, I have often felt that you did not have a place here among us, and that surely nothing good would come of Mr. Frodo's love for you. But I now realize that it was not my place to meddle."

He bowed his head. "I'm truly sorry, I am. I care for him deeply, but I'm not sure if I would have been able to jump off a cliff for him. And yet you did, without a second thought."

She turned to face him fully. "Sam…"

"My sister will be truly sad, for her love for Mr. Frodo was real, but it is not my place to fight her battle. You have always been nothing but nice to me ever since I met you again in Rivendell, and I ask you to forgive me for my harsh words."

She felt a little overwhelmed by the repentance in his eyes. "Sam…" she started again. "Since the very beginning, I have never held anything against you. A part of me has always agreed with you; a part of me always thought it would be better if I didn't allow myself to fall more in love with Frodo. But I can't do it, Sam. I wish I could, but I can't."

Sam gave her a slight smile. "That is a feeling I can empathize with."

She blinked slowly. "Do you have someone in your heart as well?"

Sam's cheeks turned pink and muttered something unintelligible. Allie did not press it further, but she felt happy for him. "She must be in the Shire, waiting for you. You will see her again once this journey is over."

Sam's eyes turned nostalgic at that. "I surely hope so." He then shook himself. "In any case, all I wanted to say is that I'm glad Mr. Frodo has someone like you by his side. It makes me feel more at ease."

"And I'm also glad he has such a good friend by his side," she answered.

After that, a barrier seemed to fall between them. She smiled, and Sam smiled back.

"This place is wonderful!" the gardener said as he took in the golden roof of the trees above their heads. "I wish the gaffer could see this. He'd have a thing or two to say, that's for sure. I wish we had trees like these in the Shire."

"Yes, I suppose. I wonder if I can climb on them."

Sam threw her a glance and sighed. "You have not changed from your wayward ways."

Allie simply shrugged. "You should try it! It gives you a feeling unlike any other. Frodo agrees with me on that."

"He'd agree with you on anything," Sam muttered under his breath.

Allie heard him nonetheless. "I don't think so," she replied. "Sometimes he can be quite stubborn. And speaking of him, where is he? He's been missing since this morning."

Sam looked around the woods as though he could catch Frodo walking by if he just searched hard enough, but his gaze met only grass and moss and tree trunks. He shrugged. "I'm not worried. I heard Aragorn say that this place is protected by Elven magic."

"Yes, some sort of barrier."

Sam turned towards her, and his eyes were gleaming excitedly. "Wouldn't you love to see some Elven magic? All I keep hearing is how powerful it is, but so far I have not seen anything tangible."

"The Elves' magic is quite different from Gandalf's," she noted thoughtfully. "They work in more subtle ways."

Sam's face fell a little at the mention of the Wizard. "Gandalf… I shall never see his fireworks again now."

"Perhaps witnessing a bit of magic, like you call it, will somehow make up for the sorrow that Gandalf has left in all your hearts."

Allie and Sam both twirled around in surprise at the sound of Galadriel's voice. She had walked up to them silently like a shadow, unbeknownst even to Allie's sharp senses.

Sam's eyes widened. "Really? Will you show me some?"

Galadriel smiled mysteriously and asked them to follow her. Allie and Sam exchanged a look and then marched forth. Galadriel led them to the silver basin on the pedestal, and Allie and Sam found themselves standing in the same spot where Frodo had stood the night before.

Galadriel lifted the silver jug and poured water into the basin, forming the mirror.

"What is this?" Sam asked, already entranced.

"A mirror."

Sam eagerly stepped forward without any trace of apprehension, and stared into the waters. He looked inside for long minutes, at first smiling and making appreciative noises, clearly enchanted by what he was seeing. But then, a shadow fell over his face as he gasped and frowned. Soon after, he pulled back from the pedestal with fear in his eyes.

"I saw the Shire!" he cried out. "It was burning! There were bodies… bodies of hobbits strewn about, and Orcs patrolling the streets, looting and destroying everything in their passage. It was… such a terrible sight! And… and the Party Tree was hacked down, and Bag End was billowing in flames! And there are factories everywhere, giving off dark smoke. Is this what is happening back home? I need to check on my old Gaffer!"

Sam was so distraught that he meant to fly up the stairs and get back to the Shire right away, but Allie seized his arm. "Calm down, Sam. It's all right. Just breathe."

"But… but the Shire is in danger!"

"Sam, look at me in the eyes! Sam!"

Sam finally did as told, focusing on her eyes with difficulty.

"Even if you leave now, it will take you several months to go back to the Shire," she articulated slowly. "And whatever you saw might not even have happened yet, but if you stray from the path you were supposed to tread, then they just might."

Those words finally managed to strike some sense back into him, and he relaxed a little at last. "Yes… yes… I suppose you are right."

He took a deep breath, clearly trying to block away the images he had seen.

Allie eyed Galadriel, and the Elf nodded once in approval.

"You have a deep understanding of the way fate works, in spite of your young age," the Elf spoke. "Will you not look into the mirror as well?"

"I will pass," Allie replied. "I do not wish to know in advance what the future has in store for me. I will deal with it when the time comes."

She had learned that from Frodo.

"I do have some questions for you, however. When we first met, you said there is darkness inside of me that will pose a threat to others. What are you referring to exactly? Are you talking about what we wolves call the Blood?"

Galadriel replied flatly: "Elves have not had dealings with your kin since the ancient times, and even when we did, all dealings were kept secret and we have no records of it, except from elusive whispers passed down from one age to the next. I do not know why that is, but… the mirror might give you the answer."

"Stop tempting me with it," she cried out, feeling frustrated at the lack of tangible answers, and at herself, for being tempted to look into the mirror in spite of her words.

Galadriel made a step towards her, and suddenly she seemed to increase in size as her eyes glistened like an angry sea.

"How did wolves come to be?" she asked in a powerful voice that rang through Allie's very bones. "Why can they communicate in a way that even us Elves cannot? Why is there such a potent hierarchy among them? What is this thing you call Blood? If you cannot answer any of these questions, Glor Bereth, how can you pretend to be a Queen of your kind?"

Allie was shaking slightly and could not come up with a reply. After long minutes of staring at one another, the hobbit asked through gritted teeth: "Will the mirror show me the answers to those questions?"

Galadriel was no longer looking at her. "It might. None knows what it might reveal."

Allie gathered up her determination and leaned over the surface of the water with her heart to her throat. She only wished the mirror would not show her things about Frodo and herself; she already knew the outcome of their love, and did not need to see it reinforced by the mirror.

But maybe, just maybe, the mirror might show her that everything would turn out all right in spite of all.

That was a fool's hope, wasn't it?

Her thoughts quieted when the water stirred. And then, the first image revealed itself to her.

It showed her a dark place where light did not reach… a sort of cave, an underground place. There was a shape crouched in the corner. And then a door opened, allowing grey rays of light to pour into the darkness. The light revealed the huddled shape of a thin hobbit in the corner of a dirt paved room. The hobbit slowly turned his head towards the source of light, and Allie gasped in horror upon recognizing her father.

Was he being let out of the prison holes?

She had not thought of him in so long. She didn't even know what he looked like anymore, but seeing him again now from across the mirror chilled her to the bone and made an irrational fear bud at the edge of her mind.

The image faded, being replaced by that of an old wolf chained to the floor of a rusty and damp cellar. Its fur had been ripped in places and one of its ears was missing. There was lice crawling on its fur, and a tense cloud of flies swirled around its head. However, the pitiful animal was not dead. It opened its eyes a little when an Orc was thrown down in front of it by another Orc. The wolf lifted its head with difficulty and sank its fangs into the Orc's arm.

In the next image, she saw herself staring forward with a vacant and yet harsh look in her eyes. There was a large Orc standing behind her, and yet she did not turn around to fight him. Did she not know he was there? The Orc was holding something shiny in his dirty hand… the object seemed to be a ring of some sort, because the Orc then slid it onto his finger and mouthed silent words. At that, the Allie in the mirror smiled a smile so terrible that it seemed to disfigure her face.

Allie had to reel back from the sight of it, feeling sick to her stomach. Was that really her? She did not recognize herself.

The next scene was that of a great battle. She spotted Legolas and Aragorn fighting against hordes and hordes of Orcs, but there was no hope left on their faces.

Then, she saw her wolf self writhing on a dark tiled ground beside huge boots of steel. There was blood oozing out of her eyes, her muzzle, her ears…

She started trembling as her hands clenched the edge of the pedestal. Was she witnessing her own death? How terrible… she could not bear to watch this any longer. She should not have looked!

In the mirror, the blood was now pooling around her wolf body in a viscous red pond. And then, the whole mirror turned red, as though the water had become blood. It started leaking down both sides of the silver basin. From far away, Allie heard Galadriel gasp, but her eyes were kept riveted to the red vision in the mirror.

Something was now floating to the surface among the blood-tainted water.

Allie narrowed her eyes to make out what it was.

It was an image, but it was blurry.

The red color of the water faded, replaced by sheer whiteness. The image floated to the surface, but it was as though there was a thin veil of air between it and the water surface. In spite of that, Allie managed to make out some of it.

It was her and Frodo. They were standing facing each other. In the background, there was a big white wheel turning slowly. She couldn't see it clearly, but she had never seen anything of the sort before. Somehow, the sight of it gave her goose bumps.

And then the unthinkable happened.

The pedestal on which the silver basin rested cracked in half. The basin tilted and the water poured out, trickling to the grass. The image washed away with the falling water. At the same time, Galadriel let out a cry and crumbled to her knees.

Allie blinked to get rid of the horror of what she had just witnessed, and then rushed to the Elf's side. "What has just happened?" she asked in a voice that sounded foreign to her own ears.

Galadriel was panting with a hand to her chest.

"Lady Galadriel?" Sam also inquired worriedly from behind them.

Galadriel mustered her forces and looked up at Allie strangely. "The mirror… is broken."

"The mirror? Broken? Why did this happen?" Allie deplored. "What is it that I saw? I don't understand any of it. I still don't know how wolves came to be… and… I should not have looked!"

This time, Galadriel did not contradict her. Perhaps she was regretting it too.

She stood back up on her feet, looking feeble and diminished. "I need to rest now," she stated.

"Lady Galadriel," Allie stopped her. "If you cannot answer anything else, answer this: what was that white wheel? It gave me such a strange feeling."

"That last vision is what caused the mirror to break," the Elf answered wearily with her eyes closed. "The mirror can only show things that are of this world, but it seems your path might lead you to somewhere beyond."

Fear struck Allie's heart. "What… are you saying? Where is that place?"

"I do not have any more answers," Galadriel whispered. "There are many things that even I do not understand."

Her intense blue eyes settled on the hobbit, and Allie seemed to detect a trace of pity in them. "There is still time to turn back."

She saw herself lying in a pool of blood again and shut her eyes tightly. "I will not let the things I saw in the mirror come to pass," she whispered more to herself than to the lady. "But even if they do come to pass, I am a Queen of wolves, and if such is my end, then I will make sure it will have been for something worthwhile."

Galadriel's traits softened a little at that. "The mirror does not show death," she murmured comfortingly. "Whatever it is that you saw there, it was not your end. But I admire your courage and your determination nonetheless. May our stars lighten the paths ahead."

Allie didn't reply, but simply stared gravely into Galadriel's back as she slowly disappeared among the trees.

Sam and she walked up the stairs in heavy silence.

"I wish I hadn't asked to see Elven magic," Sam whispered in a small voice. "I thought it would be beautiful, but my heart has never felt heavier."

Allie agreed silently with him

She should not have looked.

* * *

_Hmm, I enjoyed writing this part :p So, basically now I need to hear about what YOU think. I know you are just dying to say a thing or two, so please go ahead~! :p And btw, thanks to all the reviewers! I really appreciate all your insight! Yup!_


	38. By the Riverbank

**By the Riverbank**

When Allie got back to Caras Galadhon, Frodo was already among their group, gathering up their things and packing them with a somber face. She saw him but did not go to him. If he saw her right now, he'd know that something was amiss. She needed some time alone to think about the things she had seen in the mirror. She had to forget them now. That was the only way she could still find the courage to go forward.

"Pippin, where are you?" she asked out of habit.

"Allie, I'm here…"

Her eyes regained focus at the forlorn tone of his voice. "What's wrong?"

The auburn wolf treaded out of a patch of trees. His green eyes were shining with panic and sadness.

"I… I can't turn back anymore. It happened last night as I slept. This is it, Allie. This is me now."

That had the effect of an icy shower.

She advanced towards his shivering shape. She didn't know what to say or do except bury her fingers in his fur and rest her forehead against his.

"I thought you still had some time left…"

"I thought so as well, but lately I have felt the urge to transform more and more. Some mornings, I even wake up as a wolf even though I went to sleep as a hobbit. We all knew this day would come, Allie. It is a miracle I have retained my hobbit form for so long."

The quiet resignation in his voice made her heart ache. Pippin felt her anxiety and licked her cheek reassuringly. "I will live with it. It is not so bad, being a wolf. The others in the pack are my family. It is just harder than I anticipated because I have met Merry again. He will be devastated by this news."

The wolf saw the fear in Allie's eyes. "Allie, you have to keep strong. You might still have years left. Do you remember what Councillor has told us? He has served four Queens already, and the second one has managed to retain her human form for twenty years."

"It's already been nineteen years since the day I was bitten," she stated with wide eyes. "And with the Ring so close… I don't know, Pippin. But right now it is not about me. What can I do for you? Do you want me to tell the rest of the Fellowship?"

Pippin's eyes turned sad. "I don't want to tell them, but as the ninth companion, I have an obligation to let them know."

She stared into his green eyes for a moment longer before nodding somberly, and turned to face the others, who were still going about their own activities. She demanded the attention and then gave the news. Merry immediately let out a cry of grief and rushed over to Pippin's side, clenching a hand in his fur.

"Impossible!" he cried out. "Why so soon? Why? Oh Pippin! It feels like I'm losing you a second time!"

Merry was crying now, and Pippin licked wistfully at his tears, his green eyes imploring him to stop. Merry understood him, and fell silent, but he buried his face in Pippin's fur instead. "Regardless of what you are, we will stay friends forever, do you hear me?" came his muffled voice.

The auburn wolf rubbed against him softly.

Frodo slowly trudged over to Allie's side. They looked at each other but did not say anything. They were both thinking that a day would come when they would face the same ordeal.

She saw the concern in his eyes and clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking.

"Allie…" Frodo started.

"We should be packing," she declared cheerfully, and then walked towards where their travel bags lay. She knelt down and started rolling up Frodo's blanket to stack it into his bag. However, her hands felt stiff and she was having trouble closing the bag.

Frodo knelt down beside her and seized her hand to stop her.

She jerked it away from his as she continued struggling with the bag. "We should hurry. The others are already done packing," she said as she rotated away from Frodo.

"Allie, stop," Frodo pleaded softly.

He grabbed her hands again and forced her to stop.

Allie stared hard at the messy ball that the blanket had become, as a tear silently rolled down her cheek. Frodo pressed a hand against her back and drew her into a soothing embrace. She leaned into him. "I'm scared," she confessed in a small voice. "I don't want to lose what I have found with you."

"It will be all right," he soothed her gently. "We will figure out something, I promise."

"It's time to go," Haldir prompted them gently from a few steps away.

The two hobbits parted slowly, almost reluctantly. Frodo wiped away Allie's tear with his thumb. He gazed at her questioningly and she gave him a firm nod.

"Let's go," she told him.

The Company then walked among the woods, guided by Haldir once more, till they reached a small river undulating among the tree roots. From there, the Elves of Lorien allowed them to borrow their light boats to pursue their journey on the waters. Their progress would be faster that way, carried by the currents of the Anduin.

Before they left, Galadriel came on a white boat, in the shape of a swan, to bid them farewell one last time. The Elves clad them with soft and resistant Elven cloaks, garb usually reserved for their own people. Galadriel walked among them, giving each of them a small parting gift so that they would always remember the time they had spent in these woods.

To Frodo, she gave the light of Earendil, the Elves' most beloved star.

"May it be a light for you in dark places, when all other lights go out," she whispered solemnly to him.

Frodo thanked her softly.

In front of Allie, Galadriel simply paused for long seconds. The hobbit stared at her feet, afraid to see anger in Galadriel's eyes. She had broken her mirror after all.

But instead of admonition, Allie felt light fingers on her chin, and then a second later she was staring into the kind blue eyes of the Queen Elf.

"Can I have your necklace for a moment?" Galadriel requested.

Allie was dumbfounded, and then wordlessly passed the chain around her neck and handed her the half moon pendant. Galadriel took it in the palm of her hand and, under Allie's fascinated eyes, blew on it softly. Then, she handed it back.

"I have conferred upon it some of the light that protects our people. May it keep you safe. I have no other adequate gift to offer you, for the most precious one is already within you."

She pressed her palm to Allie's chest. "The love you bear for the Ring-bearer, always remember it. It shall pull you back to the light."

Allie didn't understand her words, as usual, but nonetheless felt the warmth of their sincerity. "Thank you, lady Galadriel. And I'm sorry for your mirror."

Galadriel stood back up. Her eyes were unreadable once more. "It was not your doing. Farewell now."

"Farewell," Allie said.

The rest of the Fellowship was already embarking on the three light boats when Allie approached the side of the river. Pippin gazed with longing at where Merry was seated, but his wolf form could not fit on the boat.

"You don't need to go any further if it's too hard for you," Allie told him seriously.

The auburn wolf shook his head fiercely. "I'm a part of the Fellowship, and I'm also your Protector. I know you intend to go to the very end, so you better bet I will too."

Allie swallowed down the lump in her throat. "Follow us from the river bank, then."

"I will. And Allie…"

She looked at him.

The wolf pawed at the earth hesitantly, like every time he had a request to make of her. "Please stay with Merry for a while and try to cheer him up?"

It wasn't often that he asked her for any favors, so this she granted him readily. Pippin, relieved, then turned tails and quickly vanished in the wild beside the river bank without a backward glance. Her heart went out to him, but she didn't know how to ease the emptiness he must feel.

She went to Frodo to inform him of the situation, and he gave her a small smile, telling her to go ahead. She thus climbed on top of the boat after Merry and Boromir, while Frodo and Sam sat with Aragorn. On the last boat came Legolas and Gimli.

The boats then swiftly took off, gliding silently over the calm waters.

Allie saw Haldir waving at them from beside a big tree, and she waved back sadly, wondering if she'd ever see him again.

Soon they left the woods of Lothlorien behind and reached a fork in the watercourse where the river they were following joined the wider course of the Anduin. Allie heard Boromir grunt behind her as he worked the oar to turn their boat left in order to engage themselves onto the rapid currents of the larger river.

Merry was wrapped in a moody silence in front of her, and she simply stared at his back for a while as their boat glided lightly on the water.

"Merry?"

She had spoken softly, but he still startled as if she had screamed his name out loud. He turned two wide brown eyes on her.

She pointed down toward the waters rushing past and said: "Do you remember when I stole the ferry?"

A light of recollection lit up in Merry's eyes, but he didn't smile. "Pippin and I rode on it many times afterward, with Berilac. Soon we could go all the way to the other riverbank and then back. We competed to see who could make the round trip in the shortest time. Those were good times, weren't they?"

She nodded, and absent-mindedly let her fingers glide across the water passing them by as the boat advanced.

"I know you understand how I feel," Merry spoke up suddenly, his eyes glinting savagely.

Allie's eyes glided to Aragorn's boat for a fleeting second, but she remained silent otherwise.

"Isn't there a way to reverse the process?" Merry asked, though without much hope.

Her features did not change when she replied: "Not that I know of."

"What will become of the two of you?" She knew he was alluding to Frodo. "You love each other, don't you? But that will have to end one day."

Allie really wished Merry hadn't brought this up. "I know," she simply acquiesced.

Merry clenched his fists. "Doesn't that anger you? This feeling of impotence… this feeling of leaving everything up to fate. Sometimes you wonder what good you could possibly do in the grand scheme of things when you are so little."

He hung his head down low. "I regret leaving the Shire now. I only thought of having an adventure like that old Bilbo, but instead I found out about loss and am now faced with things I can't control. What good am I in this Quest when I can't even save my own friend? I'm just the extra baggage that you have to drag along. I mean… I can't even fight to defend myself and need to depend on others for my survival. I will only slow you down."

Allie was stunned by the bitterness in his voice. She didn't know he had felt this way.

Surprisingly, it was Boromir who answered: "Even the greatest warriors carry feelings of impotence and doubt sometimes. It is not something that you should be ashamed of. What you need to strive for instead is a way to overcome those thoughts. Train your mind, young hobbit. Firm your resolve."

He worked the oar placidly as he said this, his eyes set forward.

Merry sighed. "Then perhaps I should take some more sword lessons too."

Boromir nodded appreciatively as if that was what he had wanted to hear. "That's the spirit! I can help you with that."

Allie placed a hand on that of her friend. "Merry, no one ever thought you were extra baggage. You always manage to cheer us up even when things are looking dire. Don't underestimate the importance of that."

Merry had a weak smile at this. "Really? I didn't know my jokes were that effective."

"Yes, they are the very best. Brooding is unlike you."

Merry sighed again, but his posture was a bit straighter. She knew he was depressed over Pippin, but knowing Merry, he should be able to get over it soon and return to his jovial self. He and Pippin had always been able to look at the world in an optimistic manner no matter what the circumstances were.

Even after Pippin had become a wolf, he had not lost that trait. He was the most light-hearted and idealistic of their group. Informant always grunted that Pippin was too trusting to be Protector and wondered what the hell the Blood was thinking when it had designated him. But Allie knew that Pippin's way of protecting was not physical. He had protected her heart and her humanity all these years. Without him, she would have become another ruthless wolf and would never have managed to keep her hobbit self this long.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by a log floating on the water behind their boat. At first she didn't pay it any attention, but the way that it glided faster than the current suddenly made her frown.

She pulled on Boromir's sleeve and pointed. The Man of Gondor looked back grimly for a few seconds.

"Something has been following us ever since we left Moria. I overheard the Elves saying that it has been loitering at the edge of the Lorien, near the place where we entered the woods."

"Does Aragorn know of this?"

Boromir's lips twisted up in a sneer at the mention of that name. "Yes," he answered quite abruptly. "After the creature was first spotted in Moria, Gandalf spoke of it with Aragorn first, of course."

Allie remained silent for a few seconds. "Why do you get along so badly with Aragorn? You two have much in common."

"We have nothing in common!" Boromir retorted fierily. "My main concern is for my people and my city! Everything I do is for their sake. I am merely the Steward's son, but I would gladly give my life to protect Minas Tirith if it ever came to that! But Aragorn! He is… he could be much more than a simple Ranger if he were not so afraid to take responsibility for his heritage! He could bring hope to my city and do more for them than I ever could, but instead he chooses to remain in the shadows while my city decays and my people die!"

He splashed the water angrily with his oar, but then straightened again as a terrible calm overcame his face. "I used to think I could rely on him to make the right decisions, but now I see that my father is right. A true warrior does not rely on others; he makes his own decisions and treads the path he himself paves."

"I understand the love you have for your city, Boromir. But a true warrior consults with his commander before taking any action," she cautioned him warily.

"Our commander is dead," Boromir retorted. "He fell in Moria."

Allie felt worry gnaw at her. Boromir seemed intent on not recognizing Aragorn's leadership.

Aragorn chose that moment to signal to them that it was time for a break as he worked to direct his boat to the riverbank.

Boromir narrowed his eyes but followed his lead nonetheless.

They had already travelled a great distance, more than they ever would have made by foot in the same amount of time, so the morale of the group was good, for once.

Allie found herself searching for Frodo's familiar mass of dark curls, and smiled when she spotted him already on land. She found herself missing him even though she had last seen him in the morning, and suddenly unease gripped her as she wondered worriedly if it was healthy to feel this way. She didn't want to end up like her father. She understood his nature now; he had loved his wife too much, to the point where she had become life itself to him. When she had died, his soul seemed to have died along with her, leaving behind an empty carcass that contained only hatred and anger for the rest of the world.

Love had consumed him and the loss of love had turned him mad; no matter what, she could not let that happen to her. But how exactly did one retain one's sanity after the passing of a loved one? She could not, refused to think, of the eventuality of Frodo dying.

She shook herself out of these thoughts as their boat bumped against the sandy shore. She jumped down onto the firm land to stretch her limbs.

Aragorn's boat was already pulled up onto the shore, and he was now busy gathering kindling and wood for a fire, along with Frodo and Sam.

Allie marched towards Frodo and relieved him from the load of firewood he had been carrying. He smiled at her in thanks, and just seeing that smile made her flustered. She quickly turned away and left.

After that, as she sat down among the Fellowship to eat her meat, she listened to them converse quietly about the road they were to take. Their voices mingled into a soothing and droning sound as she slowly chewed on her food. No one was paying her particular attention, but she allowed her gaze to travel to each of their faces: the gracious Legolas, the proud Gimli, the fearless Aragorn, the passionate Boromir, the vibrant Merry, the loyal Sam. And of course Frodo, the one she loved. She was so used to eating and living among wolves now that this felt out of the ordinary, but not in a bad way.

After their meal, it was time to go back onto the boats. For the afternoon trip, she mounted with Frodo and Aragorn instead. She had looked forward to this because she had matters to discuss with the Ranger.

"Who is following us?" she asked without preamble as Aragorn pushed his boat away from the shore.

Aragorn looked at her piercingly. "It took you some time to notice, my friend."

Allie grunted at his rebuke. "My mind has been… on other things."

"It's Gollum," he informed her. "He's been tracking us since Moria."

Frodo jumped at this. "Gollum?" he exclaimed. "The one that Bilbo met?"

Aragorn sighed. "I had hoped we would lose him on the river, but he's too clever a waterman."

Allie gave a snort of disdain. "He will have to go up to shore some time to rest and hunt. I will order my wolves to kill him then."

To her dismay, Aragorn shook his head. "I spoke to Gandalf about him when we first saw him in Moria. The Wizard seemed to think that Gollum has yet a role to play in this, for good or for evil."

"Mostly for evil, I bet. We could save ourselves a lot of trouble by killing him now!"

Aragorn turned his piercing eyes onto Frodo. "And what do you think of all this, Frodo?"

The Ring-bearer was thoughtful for a moment, and then said: "I still do not understand why my uncle pitied him enough to spare him. If he becomes a threat to our Quest, then I suppose we would have no other choice but to kill him."

Allie was nodding vigorously at this. "He will get no pity from me if he ever dares to cross our path, that's for certain!"

Aragorn shook his head at her vehemence. "Do not be so quick to dispense death and judgment, my friend. I would have agreed with you, if not for Gandalf's warning that Gollum's role in this is not yet over. We do not know how the wheels of fate work. If Gollum is killed before his time, it might lead to disaster."

"You speak too much like Gandalf to my taste now, Aragorn," Allie grumbled. "I thought you didn't believe in fate, only in your own strength."

"I have to believe in it now," he answered distantly.

Allie guessed that he was thinking of Arwen. She knew he had asked her to go to the Immortal lands with what remained of her people, but in his heart, he still hoped that there would be a turnaround in fate that would allow them to see each other again.

On both sides of the river, tall trees grew in thickets, their green canopy extending far up the land. A flock of birds suddenly disrupted the silence by taking their flight, cawing madly.

Aragorn looked among the trees with concern.

"Allie, are your wolves following us on the western shore?"

"Yes."

"Have they reported anything unusual?"

She frowned. "No. Pippin is leading them. Hunter and Informant have gone ahead to scout."

"Ask them to go back."

She slowly uncrossed her arms. "Go back where?"

"Go back towards Lothlorien, following the river. I want to make sure that no one is following us."

"If someone is following us, my wolves would have spotted them by now."

"The wind is blowing north. It could easily hide their scent. Do as I say, Allie."

Allie's eyes shone silver briefly as she communicated with her wolves. "For your peace of mind, I have asked some recruits from Informant's unit to retrace their steps," she finally announced. "But you might worry unnecessarily, Aragorn."

"It is better to be safe than sorry," was all that the Ranger said.

Allie felt pretty confident in her wolves' ability to keep her alerted to any dangers. After all, they had never failed her up until now.

However, that night, as she lied there in the dark with her eyes strained to the starless night skies, she felt apprehension grow in the pit of her stomach. Her mind kept wandering to those images she had seen in Galadriel's mirror. She had barely had time to think about them during the day, but now that everything was quiet, every image suddenly came back to her as clearly as though they had been imprinted on her retina, seeming more frightening than ever because of the encompassing darkness of night.

The one that kept troubling her was, surprisingly, not the one showing her bleeding out on the floor, but the one of her and Frodo in front of that white wheel. It was a very peaceful scene, if she had to use a word to describe it, so she didn't understand why her hair stood on edge every time it came to mind.

Why had it broken the mirror?

_The mirror only shows what is of this world_… Galadriel's voice drifted into her head.

She sat up, shivering, suddenly very afraid.

Everyone else was sleeping, but she could make out Frodo's silhouette still sitting by the side of the water.

She hesitated for a moment, but then silently strode to where he was and stood behind him and looked at him staring into the dark currents of the river.

Frodo knew of her presence, but he did not turn around. After seeing Allie in a cage in Galadriel's mirror, he was torn now about what to do. Should he just leave by himself to continue the Quest? Even after he had promised her he would never desert her?

He looked up from his feet when he felt her sitting behind him with her back against his. Even through their layers of clothing and their cloaks, he could feel the warmth of her body. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to lean his head against hers.

"Do you believe in other worlds?" her voice asked in the darkness.

"The Immortal lands of the Elves?" he asked, and then continued before she had time to answer: "I do. I've seen the Elves march towards the harbour, from where they will board their ship. There is such a place close to the Shire…"

But Allie was gently shaking her head, and he fell silent.

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about… worlds that are different from ours. Imagine a world with different constellations, a world with no Shire, no Lothlorien, and no Immortal lands; a world with no Ring and no war, where everyone can just coexist peacefully. Do you reckon such a world might exist out there? If it does, then perhaps the Allie of that world will never be bitten by a wolf, and she would meet Frodo. They would fight a lot at first, but then they would fall in love, and go on to live happy days… build a house together… grow old together…"

She fell silent, suddenly embarrassed of what she was saying. She was not a child anymore to be uttering such nonsense.

She waited for some sort of mockery from Frodo, some sort of rebuke, but when he did speak, it was only to say: "So even in that world, Allie and Frodo fight a lot when they first meet?"

Before she could respond, he added in a light voice: "What about a world in which Frodo and Allie meet each other. The instant that she sees him, she immediately falls for his irresistible looks and his charming personality. After she chases him around all day, he finally agrees to go on a date with her. She puts on her nicest dress, and she bakes him cookies as she waits for him after school. Then, they savour the cookies on their secret tree platform."

She couldn't help it; she laughed out loud, making her back shake against his, and he cracked his first real smile of the day.

"Is that what you have been fantasizing about ever since we were kids?" she teased with horror in her voice. "Me baking you cookies?"

He cleared his throat defensively. "I'm joking."

She turned around, giggling, and wrapped her arms around his waist as she rested her chin on his shoulder.

"Do you mind if they are burned? I have not cooked in years."

Even in the dark, she saw the point of his ears turning red. "It was just a joke!" he exclaimed. "But just for the record, if you ever do it, I'd still eat them all."

She suppressed a laugh as her fingers played with one of the buttons of his shirt. "How every gallant of you, but you still haven't answered my question," she whispered, her warm breath in his ear making him shiver from head to toe.

She could almost see the wheels in his brain turning as he tried to recall what question he had asked her. Finally, he answered: "No, Allie. I can't even fathom the existence of other worlds when there are still so many things in _this_ world that I don't understand."

He rested his hands on hers, and she lied against his back, taking in his scent. It was a mixture of Elven fabric, wild grass and the enduring traces of home that always seemed to linger on him.

"Why do you suddenly ask me this?"

"I thought it would be unconventional enough to distract you from whatever is bothering you," she murmured with her face half buried in his cloak.

Frodo startled at that. He had truly forgotten about his problems for a time. He even felt his stomach grumbling now, demanding food.

The realization made him chuckle in sudden relief. He wanted to turn around to face her, but she made an unhappy sound and stopped his movement by tightening her hold on him.

"I like your back," she confessed in a low voice.

They sat still like that for many minutes, just breathing.

Then Frodo spoke quietly: "When we were kids, you hugged me like this once, after I told you the story of the girl who had to sleep bound onto the apprentice's back because of a curse."

She stirred a little, smiling. "I remember. Was that when you first started liking me?"

Frodo sat up straighter, for once happy that she couldn't see his blushing face. And then he decided to be romantic: "No. I have always liked you."

"Liar," she replied without missing a beat. "You hated me when we first met. "Who is that dirty, wild little girl?" is what you thought."

"That's because you hated me first!" he retorted softly. "You used to always glare holes into my back. And you definitely took pleasure in making me angry."

"And I stole your strawberry with cream. And I hid your homework!" she laughed. "I know. I'm so sorry that I was such a brat to you."

"As long as you know it," he grumbled.

She leaned against his back some more and took one of his hands in hers and laced their fingers together. "You did some terrible things to me too when we were waging that war. I must admit that trying to outsmart you has always been the highlight of my day."

Frodo kept silent, but he secretly agreed with her. Looking back, those days with her her had been the most exciting part of his childhood.

"I never hated you," she added a moment later, her eyes wide open in the dark. "You might laugh when you hear this, but when I first saw you from afar, I was very intimidated by you."

He did laugh, as she expected. "_You_, intimidated by _me_?"

She smiled against his hair. "I know how it sounds, but it's true. I vividly remember this one time towards the beginning of my first summer in Buckland, I was looking out of the window of my smial, and I saw you standing there in the storm outside my window. Back then I was already sneaking out of my house in spite of my father's warnings, but I was confident enough in my skills of not being found out by anyone. But there was something about the way you looked as you stood there in the rain that day. It gave me the feeling that you would were able to see through everything, that you would find me. And that scared me."

He turned to face her, and this time she let him by removing her arms from around him.

His eyes were gleaming intently. "And I did, didn't I? I found you."

She cocked her head slightly and smiled. "Technically, Merry and Pippin found me first, but yes, I suppose you did find me in your own time."

His blue eyes held hers as he asked: "So when did you stop being scared of me?"

She pulled her eyes away from his with difficulty, and then opted for a light-hearted tone to say: "Oh, rather fast. You remember the first time I dared you to climb on a tree and you couldn't? You looked so funny! I knew then that I had nothing to fear from you!"

Frodo forced himself to exhale slowly. "Let me rephrase that. How about…when did you start thinking about me as someone… well, special?" he finished as he tried to keep his gaze on hers, hoping the night would hide his blush.

She pointed a finger to her chin impishly. "That must have been when I sneaked up on you as you were playing make-believe games all by yourself. You were pretending to be a pirate. That's when I thought: he's special, all right."

"I said special! Not peculiar!"

"So you do admit that your own behaviour was peculiar at the time?" she asked triumphantly.

Frodo tried to think of a come-back but couldn't. He had forgotten how it was to get into a verbal argument with her. He sighed in defeat and decided to be mature about this. He knew she was purposely not telling him what he wanted to hear.

"Allie, why do you always break the mood like this?"

"What mood? You can't possibly mean the one where we exchange embarrassing confessions, can you?"

He sighed. "Aren't girls supposed to like this kind of things?"

"Sorry for not being girly enough for you, mister." She crossed her arms and just gaped at him.

"You are impossible!" he exclaimed and rotated away from her.

Allie stood up and stepped in front of him, bending a little to peer at his face, but Frodo refused to acknowledge her presence. She watched him pensively for a second, wondering if he really was mad, but then a knowing smile stretched her lips. Slowly, she knelt down in front of him, touched her hands to the ground and shifting her body forward to be at face level with him.

"Are you mad, Frodo?" she inquired sweetly.

Frodo crossed his arms and his eyes fleeted to her face for a second, but then he looked away again in moody silence.

She slowly edged closer to him on her hands and knees, moving forward like a feline, while a rather seductive smile decorated her lips. The next time Frodo's eyes fleeted to her, they stayed on her. He couldn't help but stare at the way her body moved under the moonlight, with her blonde hair cascading to the ground on both sides of her face. His earlier disappointment all but vanished as his heart started storming in his chest and a lump grew in his throat.

She edged close until her face was an inch from his.

"Are you mad, I said?" she repeated, her grey eyes brimming.

"Whatever you are doing, it is not going to work," he stated firmly.

"No?" she inquired innocently, and edged even closer till their noses were touching.

Frodo drew in a small breath, feeling as though the air all around him was suddenly sizzling, making a bead of perspiration grow at the top of his forehead. He felt himself leaning in to close that short distance between their lips, but she pulled back just enough to evade him, with a teasing glint in her eyes.

"Are you mad?" she asked for the third time.

Frodo forbid himself from caving in. Two could play at this game.

"Yes, I'm mad," he countered as he let his finger slide down the side of her face.

Allie pulled back a little, surprised by his initiative, but Frodo did not give her the opportunity to draw back. Slowly, he let his finger continue its path till it was tracing a line down the side of her neck. Allie's eyes fluttered close for a second, before she opened them again.

She was now staring at Frodo now with astonishment and desire. Even in the dark, Frodo could see how her pupils seemed darker than usual as she looked upon his face.

Slowly, he opened up his fingers and rested his full hand against the side of her neck. Then, he lifted the heavy weight of her hair to cup the back of her neck, until he was gradually drawing her to him.

His voice was warm and a bit hoarse when he said: "I am mad, but you can make it go away."

At his words, she steadily shifted her body forward again. He saw a flash of grey orbs before feeling her lips crushing his. He kissed her back hungrily, a hand running through her hair. He thought finally being able to kiss her would satiate the fire that her teasing moves had started within him, but that fire just grew hotter as her lips moved against his.

She tangled one hand in his black curls, pulling at them a little, and he dipped his head to plant a series of small kisses along her neck. She let out an "ah" of surprise and pleasure, and shivered.

He claimed her lips again, pressing forward until she was lying on her back on the riverbank, and he was on top of her.

He paused to look at her, with her hair sprayed out underneath her like a sheet of gold. Her lips were red and slightly parted, and her breasts were heaving up and down with her chest as she looked back at him with naked want.

He wanted her too then. He wanted her so bad that it ached.

"Allie…" he had to ask her if this was what she wanted too.

But she placed a finger against his lips, silencing him. She then traced the contours of his mouth with that finger, and then moved it down his chin, down his neck, to the half moon pendant peeking from its chain.

Her eyes were full of wonder as though she was seeing him for the first time. And perhaps she was, for she had never seen him looking quite like this, with his hair ruffled and messy, his eyes so blue and so bright, his lips swollen from kissing.

"Yes," she said to his silent request. "Yes."

His hand was trembling slightly as his hand caressed the side of her body and finally came to rest gently on one of her breasts, soft under the leather suit she wore.

She seized his Elven leaf clip with shaky hands and undid it, and his cape fell off his shoulders and onto the ground in a heap of dark green.

Frodo bent down to kiss her again as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

His reason was screaming at him that the other members of the Fellowship were asleep just a few meters away, and that the gravel and small rocks of the riverbank must be uncomfortable, but then her palm against his bare chest chased all those thoughts away as though they were mist.

As if sensing his desire, Allie's kisses grew hungrier.

Where this could have led to, neither of them knew, for in that instant, the Ring suddenly dangled out of his shirt.

The air was suddenly filled with silent vibrations. Allie couldn't hear them but she could feel them, like nails scratching on a chalkboard inside her mind. That had the effect of an icy shower. Her eyes snapped open and she squirmed away from Frodo, crawling out from underneath him.

Her blood was roaring, angry and disgusted at this intrusion.

This time, Frodo knew immediately what was wrong. He quickly sat up, seized the Ring and put it back behind his shirt, keeping his fist around it to hide it from view.

The vibrations and dark whisperings faded. Allie's shoulder's sagged in relief.

Frodo peered into her face worriedly. "Allie? Are you all right?"

"Yes," she answered when she got her breath back. "Yes, don't worry."

"It's happened again, hasn't it? The Ring?"

She nodded with wide eyes. "Yes. It was just like that day on the tree. The Ring was calling out to someone, or to something."

From the corner of his eye, Frodo suddenly saw Boromir turning on his heels and leaving. At first he felt utterly embarrassed as he wondered how long the Man of Gondor had stayed there watching them, and what he would have witnessed if the Ring hadn't interrupted them. But then another thought coursed through his mind at Allie's words: the Ring had been calling out to Boromir! He was sure of it now. And that was why it had affected her.

His eyes grew uneasy. "Boromir," he whispered. "He was close by, watching us."

Allie froze, and the same thoughts that had assaulted him now assaulted her. He saw embarrassment flicker across her face, followed by anger, finally replaced by dread.

He shuddered, and then suddenly the burden of making his choice was upon him once more.

"What should I do, Allie?" he asked desperately as he passed a hand through his messy hair. "If I stay with the Fellowship, the Ring will destroy them all. Galadriel warned me of it."

He licked his lips to give himself some courage and pursued: "The right thing to do would be to leave them. To go to Mordor all by myself. But…"

Allie clenched his arm, hard. "I'm going with you."

He raised uncertain blue eyes at her. "But Allie, the Ring would destroy you too…"

"No, it will not," she retorted firmly. "It will make me transform into a wolf, but it has no hold over me. I have never felt desire for it, only disgust. The Ring will never persuade me to take it for myself, like it would others."

Seeing that he was still hesitant, she added: "Councillor once told me that the Ring has no use for the wolves, and vice versa. It might make me transform at unwanted times, but I can deal with that. Besides, you need a guide to go to Mordor, and I know the way!"

Frodo watched her silhouette kneeling there in front of him. Her grey eyes were shining with determination, and her mouth was set in a firm line. He knew she would find him even if he decided to go off by himself. Besides, they had promised to stay together, no matter what.

"Fine, we will go together," he relented. Relief still washed over him that he wouldn't need to be alone.

Allie smiled brightly as though they were going to a fair place instead of Mordor.

"Don't look so happy!" he chided her.

Her gaze glided down to his still half opened shirt. Suddenly, thoughts of another nature monopolized her mind, and she found herself blushing to the roots of her hair. Feeling self-conscious now, she turned away from Frodo and quickly rearranged strands of hair back in place.

Frodo also buttoned up his shirt as fast as he could, his movements jerky and nervous.

An awkward silence stretched between them for a while, before she stood up and dusted off her leather suit. "I uh… better get going and get some sleep. It's another long day tomorrow," she said, not quite looking at him.

"Yes," he let out immediately, and then cringed at his speedy response.

"Yes," he repeated more slowly. "Let's get some sleep."

She left quickly without further ado, and Frodo followed after her, feeling his cheeks burn.

He was in fact very much shocked at himself; he had never been one to act so strongly on impulses alone. But back then, it was as though his body had not been his own.

As he watched her walk in the darkness in front of him, her hair swaying gently, he felt a remnant of desire stir up within him, but he quenched it down. Now was not the time to be distracted by such matters, and this was not the right place. He wanted their first time to be in some place warm and special, some place where no Ring would come between them.

_But would such a day really come?_ - the pessimistic part of his mind mused.

Would there be a day without a Ring and a dark Lord? Would Allie still be in her hobbit form then? He should love her while he still could.

He threw a quick glance at her, but her back was unreadable and did not give him any answers.

That night, they slept lying down next to each other, but not quite touching. He could feel her hand an inch from his, but he dared not grab it, feeling extremely timid all of a sudden.

Allie squirmed a little beside him, and then turned her back to him and forced her eyes to close.

She knew she needed to stop thinking about what had almost happened. She needed to get some sleep now if she were to be alert tomorrow.

But a part of her still longed for the hobbit lying next to her, so close...

No, she told herself. Now was not the time to let such primitive needs drive her actions. She forced herself to relax and to count sheep inside her head.

After a certain time, she must have succeeded in falling asleep, because she dreamed.

Allie often prided herself in the fact that she was rather fearless when facing the dangers that life threw at her. Ever since she was a little girl, there were few things that managed to keep her scared for long. She did not mind the darkness; she forgot about the fright of ghost stories fairly quickly; she loved storms; and she considered insects as part of the normal fauna of nature. The wolves had scared her for a time, but now they were her family, and together they could bring down any enemy. She had been scared of taking responsibility for the pack once upon a time, but now leadership was as normal as breathing.

But even she had a chip in her armor, and that chip was her father.

And he was present in her dream that night, as big and menacing as she remembered him from her memories.

In her dream, she was working an arid field under a beating sun, while her father watched her silently from the shade of their old run down smial in Buckland. She felt weak and thirsty, and the heat was so intense that the scenery seemed to be undulating.

"Water…" she murmured.

She yearned to go into the kitchen and drink directly from the sink, but she dared not with her father there, looking at her with his black eyes. To her despair, he suddenly rose from his spot and came towards her in giant strides.

"You were thinking bad thoughts," he said in an accusing voice.

"No, father, I wasn't!" she cried out desperately, but knowing how futile denying anything would be.

Her father's eyes seemed like endless wells of darkness, and she screamed and kicked as he seized her by the hair, dragged her to the smial, and threw her inside the dreaded closet. There was a hole in the closet, and she fell through it in spite of her best efforts to cling on.

"Please, father! No! Save me! Save me!"

"Hell awaits!" her father grinned, his face drawing further and further away as she fell.

She was really starting to think the hole led to hell itself when her feet contacted the ground. She looked around at the dark cell in which she found herself.

A door opened behind her, and a single ray of light fell on the scrawny form cradled in the corner. In her dream, her mind was shouting at her to run away, but still she inexorably advanced towards the crouched form.

She was crying as she did so. She was so afraid, and yet she couldn't stop.

She finally reached him and touched a hand to his shoulder. The creature's head swivelled on its neck and her father's emaciated face appeared, his hollow eyes staring at her.

"Look at what you did to me," he growled gutturally. "You let your own father rot in darkness for years. I was right about you… right about you all along. You are a monster. You were never meant to be born!"

"You will pose a bigger threat to the company than the weapon of the enemy," her father spoke to her with Galadriel's voice.

Fear filled her heart. "No… no… stop…"

The creature with her father's face pursued in a voice that was neither male nor female: "You are an abomination! You will lead your loved ones to death, just like you led to mother to hers. Jessamine, oh my poor Jessamine. She is craving for company, but what company? Oh I know. Soon the Ring-bearer will be joining her. He will die in the most horrid fashion. Your path is paved with rows and rows of tombs."

Hollow laughter filled the space of the dark cell.

Allie crouched down on the cold floor and pressed her hands against her ears, screaming to drown out the voice of the creature.

Suddenly it had her father's voice again, and she recognized the words flung at her as the last thing her father had said to her before he was taken away by Bilbo and Saradoc: "You monster! You killed my wife! You ruined my life! If you don't receive punishment now, one day you will! Mark my words!"

Punishment.

Being a wolf was her punishment.

Her father had cursed her that day.

Her fear for him became rage. She leapt on that vile looking creature and circled his throat with her hands. "I hate you!" she screamed with all her strength. "I hate you! I hate you!"

"Allie!"

"You cursed me! It's all your fault! I'm going to kill you!"

"ALLIE!"

Her eyes snapped open as a few tears rolled down her cheeks. She blinked, and the first thing she saw was the dying embers of their fire. Her eyes then shifted until she made out Frodo's concerned face. He was kneeling beside her, clenching her wrists firmly.

"Calm down…" he was whispering soothingly, "it was just a bad dream. Just a dream."

She blinked again and tried to orientate herself.

A dream.

Relief washed over her. Her father was not here. He was not back.

She pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle a cry. Frodo rested a soothing palm against her burning forehead, making shushing sounds.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I dreamed of my father," she found herself confessing in a tight voice. "It's been years that I haven't dreamed about him. I'd all but forgotten him, if not… well, if not for seeing him again in Galadriel's mirror."

She felt him tense, and pulled away from him to meet his shocked glance.

"Y-you looked into the mirror as well?" he stuttered.

She sat up straighter at this, and then suddenly his moodiness made sense to her. Grabbing hold of his hand, she pressed: "What did you see, Frodo?"

She was suddenly full of apprehension. Had he seen the same things she had? Had he seen her grinning terribly with death in her eyes? Had she seen her bleeding on the dark floor? And above all, had he seen the white wheel?

He debated for a moment whether he should tell her or not, but then took a deep and steadying breath and confessed without looking at her: "I saw you in your wolf form. You were in a cage among Orcs. You were injured, but still, they were taunting you. It was dreadful!"

"Is… that all?"

Frodo watched in horror as she sat back and let out a bitter chuckle. "Allie! This is no laughing matter! I don't want that to befall you!"

"I have seen worse things awaiting me," she finally declared bitterly.

Frodo was horrified at this. "What kind of things?"

She looked away.

"Allie, tell me everything!" he demanded authoritatively.

Allie met his eyes for a fleeting second, and then reluctantly recounted the things she had seen in a monotonous voice. She was not surprised at all when Frodo responded by saying: "I take back what I said before. You can't come with me. You just can't!"

"I knew you would reach this silly conclusion!" she burst out impatiently. "But think about it, what if these things befall me precisely because I decide to be a coward and retrace my steps? No, I'm going to forget about what the mirror showed me and just make decisions based on the present. And right now, what my heart tells me to do is to continue forward, forward, and always forward. We will destroy the Ring, no matter what! And that's the end of it!"

Her face had never been so stubborn. Frodo glared at her for a moment longer, before weariness gained over him.

"You will follow me no matter what?" his voice was defeated.

"Till the end of the world, if I must," she said, and clenched his hand, hoping he would see how much she meant it, and hoping he would stop demanding her to stay behind.

The sun was rising over the forest now, its rays timidly crawling across the river until it reached their figures sitting there beside the gnawed bark of the tree.

The sunlight revealed the tears pooling in his blue eyes. Tears of wrench, but also tears of gratitude.

Tenderness overwhelmed her at the sight of them.

"I will not let you face this alone, Frodo. Don't you know this by now? I will never let you be alone."

He didn't trust himself to say more, so he just smiled at her.

"Then let's go to Mordor, you and I."

Resolve filled her grey eyes. "Let's go to Mordor," she echoed his words with determination.

* * *

_I'm sorry for the delay, but here it is finally! Sorry, real life caught up big time this week and I didn't really have time to come on the website. Besides, I re-wrote parts of this chapter like a billion times. Ugh, I don't know, I hope you liked it._

**Mallory:** Oh GAWD, you ARE alive. I really missed you and was wondering where you had gone to! I'm so glad that you were still reading the story, and enjoying it! After I wrote the whole confession part, I actually thought about one of your earlier reviews mentioning how you were looking forward to the day where Allie would realize that love was good. And I thought: "well, it's done! I wonder whta Mallory thinks!" ha! but yes, I'm ecstatic that you liked it. I really had a kind of sadistic fun writing the mirror scenes lol. Well, the Lord of the Rings is supposed to be dark, so I need to plan the future accordingly. Although, what I have in mind for this story is quite... different. As I watched the LotR movies or read the books, it almost struck me how many things turn out for better by chance, or fate, or whatever you might call that. So what if some of those things don't happen or happen differently? What then? Yeah, I just want to explore all that. The father LOL, well he's about 50 yes XD. As you can see, he's not really present physically (yet). But the mirror showed him to her, and that will mess up her poor mind for a while. Oh, I understand the staying up till the little hours of the morning because of homework. I've been there too! Good luck on your studies. I'm glad my fic can be a distraction away from all that brain-work. I hope you will get the chance to drop a few words soon, cuz they really make my day! :) Thank you so much for everything! xoxo


	39. Attack

**Attack**

The next day was a repetition of the previous one, as the boats silently glided on the waters down the Anduin.

Few words were exchanged, but Allie could see that Frodo seemed to be in much better spirits ever since he had come to accept that she was not going to let him trudge to the lands of Mordor alone. Sitting behind her on the boat, he'd often play with strands of her hair to pass the time.

"Could I have one hair from your golden head?" he kept whispering to her in a growling voice, making her laugh and Aragorn smile.

They knew he was imitating Gimli, who had passionately recounted a million times already the story of Galadriel giving him three strands of her hair when he had only asked for one.

"Take as many as you want," Allie told Frodo graciously.

After that, the mood was more subdued as they continued on their way down the river. After they had passed two giant and kingly statues bordering the river (the Argonath, Aragorn explained to them), they soon arrived in sight of a lake, and Aragorn made sign for the rest of the boats to accost the bank.

When everyone disembarked, Aragorn told them they would be resting here before crossing to the eastern shore and continuing towards Mordor.

Gimly snorted: "Oh, yes, just a matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks. And after that, it gets better! A festering, stinking marshland as far as the eye can see."

Aragorn nodded. "Yes, that is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, master Dwarf."

"Recover my…!" Gimli started indignantly.

Legolas sought out Aragorn worriedly: "A shadow and a threat have been growing in my mind. Something draws near, I can feel it."

Aragorn was about to reply when he caught sight of the hobbits wandering off.

"Where are you going?" he called out after them.

"To take a stroll! My legs are cramped after staying in those boats for so long!" Merry called out as he disappeared among a patch of trees.

Allie caught the glint of worry in Aragorn's eyes, and flashed him a reassuring smile. "I will keep an eye on them," she promised.

Aragorn only looked mildly reassured, especially after Legolas' warning. However, the hobbits had already gone off, and there were tasks to do, so he let them go in spite of his better judgement.

Allie caught up with Frodo marching a few feet behind Sam, who was talking quite animatedly to Merry a few steps ahead. Allie strained her ears and caught the words: "… finally stretch my legs. I never thought I would miss the walking, but I did."

She turned towards Frodo, meaning to say something, but she saw him staring sadly at the backs of his friends. She suddenly knew without the shadow of a doubt that Frodo meant to do it here, and soon.

She stepped in front of him and walked backwards as she faced him. "They will be fine."

Frodo looked into her earnest eyes.

"I don't know how to tell them."

"Don't say anything. If you do, they will want to come with us, and it will make it more difficult for everyone."

"But we can't just disappear without a word."

She eyed Merry's back sadly for a second, but then took a decisive breath. "It's the only way. Do you think I am the only person who would willingly go to Mordor with you? They will all want to come."

He sighed a little. "We have come a long way together. It feels like we are abandoning them."

Allie stopped, and Frodo stopped in front of her. She bore her eyes into his and softly affirmed: "You know it's not like that. You know the truth in your heart."

Frodo opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by an "Ey-oh!" from Merry.

They looked around and saw that they had arrived in front of a peculiar stone construction shaped as a giant seat above a stony platform. There were stairs leading up to it, and they saw that Merry and Sam were already up there, trying to get on the seat.

"The view is wonderful from up here!" Merry exclaimed with a hand to his eyes.

"I can see all the way to the river, Mr. Frodo!" Sam added excitedly.

"This is the watchtower of Amon Hen!" Allie exclaimed in awe.

Frodo sighed and rubbed his forehead wearily. He wasn't in the mood for sight-seeing, but he followed Allie nonetheless when she started going up the stairs.

Merry continued looking around excitedly, but then his face suddenly went pale. He pointed a shaky finger to the forest looming at the other side of the clearing.

"Folk... look...," he breathed out, "Those are Orcs, aren't they? Orcs are coming!"

At the same time, Allie froze in her movements, for Informant was speaking to her: "The wolves we sent back to scout are dead! I didn't feel it up until now. What is happening?"

Allie hadn't felt it either. Normally, when a wolf died, she could detect it via the Blood. Now that she actively looked for those wolves, she could see that the threads that used to link her to them had been severed.

"Come to me," she demanded urgently of her pack, "come to me immediately!"

The first Orcs were already emerging from the trees at the limit of the meadow that stretched between Amon Hen and the forest. They were bigger than the Orcs they had encountered thus far, and dingy pieces of metal clung to their frames.

Allie motioned to Sam and Merry. "Don't just stay there! Run!"

Merry obeyed her immediately, and Sam also rushed down the steps as fast as he could. The Orcs had spotted them and were running towards them at a frightening speed, all sneers and growls and lifted swords.

"They are no Orcs…" Allie muttered to herself. "They are Uruk-hai…"

A shiver of apprehension ran through her.

"We have to go back and alert Aragorn!" Frodo managed to say beside her.

At that moment, Sam tripped on his feet and fell down the stairs, dragging Merry with him. The two hobbits tumbled down to the foot of Amon Hen and lied there in a pile.

The first Uruk-Hai rushed towards them with a growl of victory, but his big sword was suddenly stopped by that, much smaller, of Allie. Eyes glinting like steel, she then slashed her sword across his stomach, and dark blood spurted out. The Uruk fell at her feet, dead.

The others marked a moment of angry stupor, before they all rushed forward with a cry of war and vengeance.

Allie swirled around and unceremoniously pulled Merry and Sam to their feet. "Run!" she intimated savagely.

"But you…" Merry started.

However, Allie had turned her back to them again, her sword slashing open the stomach of another Uruk-hai.

"Listen to her! Go now!" Frodo screamed as he shovelled them out of the way of Allie's dancing blade. Merry and Sam finally obeyed and broke into a run towards their camp. After a few steps, Sam looked back, and apprehension welled up in him at the sight of his master drawing Sting.

"Mr. Frodo!"

Frodo didn't hear him, all his attention focused on the ring of Uruk-hai steadily forming around Allie. She was slaying them as best she could, but she was greatly outnumbered. He rushed into the melee with Sting in his hands, dodged the blade of an Uruk-hai and then slashed his leg open. The Uruk-hai stumbled backwards with a hand over his wound, groaning furiously. His bloody eyes narrowed and he threw himself at Frodo in angry retaliation. The hobbit's blue eyes widened, and then he seized his hilt with both hands and thrust the blade forward with a wild cry until it buried itself in the Uruk-hai's stomach. When Frodo withdrew the sword, dark blood followed.

He stepped back, panting, looking at his stained blade in stupor. He had just killed someone for the first time. It was an Uruk-hai, and an enemy, but a living thing nonetheless. His mind reeled.

"Frodo, what are you still doing here? Run!" Allie growled at him breathlessly.

"I can fight as well!" he screamed back, and showed her the stained blade of Sting as proof. "I'm not leaving you behind!"

"You are going to get yourself killed! Go back immediately and alert Aragorn and the others! Watch out!"

An Uruk-hai had approached Frodo from behind, sword in hand, his face contorted into a smirking grimace. A second later, Allie had propelled her blade above Frodo's shoulder and into the Uruk-Hai's heart.

Allie withdrew her blade and looked into the shocked face of Frodo. "Go," she whispered to him softly. "I'm not alone."

As if to give weight to her words, a sudden squeal of terror erupted from the outer circle of Uruk-hai. Allie and Frodo looked in that direction and saw silent wolf figures leaping out of the woods and throwing themselves at the monsters, ripping off their limbs and clawing their guts out.

"Go to the river," Allie told Frodo urgently. "It will be safe there. I will go to you as soon as I can. I promise."

Heart pounding, Frodo searched her eyes desperately, gave her hand one last squeeze, and then he turned away and ran.

As he steadily sprinted down the slope towards the river, he glanced over his shoulder and saw that she had resumed her fight. Her hair flew around her and her blade glinted each time it caught the sun. It was as thought she was dancing, he thought. A dance of death.

With effort, he pried his eyes away from her and as he continued running, getting away from the sounds of battle. He wondered whether he was doing the right thing by leaving her behind.

"She can defend herself, and I need to go get help," he told himself resolutely and continued running.

When the scintillating waters of the river finally came into view down the slope, he accelerated his pace and stormed onto the shore to the alarmed faces of the rest of the Fellowship.

"There are big Orcs up the shore!" he cried out in between his breaths. "Allie is there fighting them, but she needs your help! Go quick!"

Aragorn didn't make the hobbit repeat himself twice. He seized his sword, and followed by Legolas and Gimli, rushed into the woods as fast as he could.

Frodo looked around frantically. "Where are Merry and Sam? They left before me!"

"They have not come back here," Boromir answered.

Frodo twirled around, surprised to see him still there. Boromir took his time in picking up his sword and shield off the ground, and Frodo suddenly realized with a jolt of apprehension that they were alone.

"Will you not go help them fight?" he inquired carefully.

"I overheard your conversation with Allie the other night," he started calmly.

Frodo felt himself becoming scarlet as anger and embarrassment coursed through him at the memory of Boromir's intrusion on them that night. "Why were you spying on us?"

Boromir let out an incredulous chuckle. "Spying? I was merely taking a walk by the river." His eyes narrowed. "I overheard your plans, little one. You want to leave us without a word and pursue the Quest with just the two of you."

He advanced and Frodo backed away.

"Why?" he exclaimed. "How can you do this to us? We have been fighting for you, dying for you, all this time, and you plan to just desert the Fellowship?"

"You don't understand," Frodo answered. "It is for your own good. The Ring would…"

"For our own good!" Boromir sneered. His eyes hardened when Frodo backed away till one of his feet was in the water.

"Why do you recoil? I am no thief."

"You are not yourself," Frodo answered shakily.

The Ring was heavy around his neck now, and Frodo clutched a hand to it unconsciously. The moment Boromir saw the gesture, anger flashed across his eyes.

In two big strides, he was over Frodo and had seized him by the vest. "Give it to me," he urged. "You don't need to carry this burden any longer. I will make better use of it. I will bring it to my city, and use it to save my people. Give it to me!"

By sheer strength, Frodo broke free from him, landing in the water. "No!" he cried out. "We have to destroy it! You promised at the Council that you would!"

"You fool," he spat out contemptuously. "What chances do you think you have? They will find you! They will take the Ring! And you will beg for death before the end!"

Before he was done speaking, he had leapt onto the hobbit, ripping his shirt open and greedily grasping for the Ring that he could now see.

Frodo felt despair overcome him. He tried to push the bigger Man away, but the latter had him pinned down in the water by the mere weight of his larger body.

_He's going to kill me and take the Ring,_ Frodo thought desperately. The moment that thought formed in his head, rage overtook him.

He would not die here, and he would not let this greedy Man take _his_ Ring. So he did the only thing he could think of: he grabbed the Ring and rammed it onto his finger.

Boromir let out a breath of surprise when Frodo all but disappeared from underneath him. Then, he felt himself being kicked in the chest, and he fell to his side in the shallow water. He looked around madly, splashing the water angrily as he span around and yelled into thin air: "So this is how it is! I see your mind clearly now! You will take the Ring to Sauron! You will betray us all! Curse you! Curse you and all the Halflings!"

Frodo's ears rang with Boromir's muffled accusations as he raced through the misty world of the Ring and past the foggy shapes of twisted trees.

Sounds ahead… shadows…

He didn't know where he was going, until he heard the dim sounds of battle, of sword against sword and the whooshing of arrows.

He leaned against a tree, his heart pounding. He fumbled with the Ring until he took it off, and suddenly the world sprung into colors and sounds again, as though his eyes had been washed clean and his ears had been unplugged.

Among his jumbled thoughts, one emerged with high priority: _where were Sam and Merry?_ They had never returned to their camp. Allie had told him to wait for her at the riverbank, but with Boromir there, it was no longer safe. After looking around him to make sure he was not being watched, he crouched down low and ran into the woods.

* * *

"Allie!"

Allie twirled around at the sound of Aragorn's cry, and she blew hair away from her sweaty face. The blade of her sword was tinted black with the blood of her enemies.

Her grey eyes crossed those of Aragorn for a meaningful second before the Ranger was swirling among the Orcs like a tornado, his sword flashing and bodies falling around him. Allie heaved a sigh of relief at the sight of him. She silently thanked Frodo for being so swift and hoped he was waiting for her at the riverbank now.

Legolas was also shooting off their enemies from a distance, while Gimli was throwing himself axe first into a throng of Orcs further away. Because of their arrival, the tide of the battle was momentarily turned in their favour.

Allie finally allowed herself to back away from the battle to regain her breath. She took out a leather band from one of the pockets of her suit and pulled her hair up in a ponytail.

Her eyes swept over the battle scene one last time, from Aragorn to her wolves, before she turned her back to them and started rushing back towards the riverbank.

To her consternation, she met Uruk-Hai on her way there. They must have detached themselves from the main group, or had come from a different direction. Suddenly, she was afraid for Frodo's safety.

A yell from her right retained her attention, and she saw Sam rolling on the ground to avoid the sword of an Uruk-hai.

"What is he doing here? I told him to go back to camp!" she mumbled in consternation and leapt onto the Uruk's back, swiftly cutting his throat.

"Allie!" Sam cried out in relief. "I thought I was done for!"

Allie helped him up on his feet and looked around. "Sam! What on earth are you still doing here? And where is Merry?"

Sam wrung his hands anxiously. "I don't know! We were running towards the riverbank when three Orcs came out of nowhere and attacked us! I got separated from Merry. I hope he's all right!"

Allie bit his lip, and then seized Sam's hand. "Come with me! We are going back to camp!"

"Where is Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked as he let himself be dragged behind her.

"If all is well, he will be there," she answered in a low voice, and issued a silent prayer.

However, when they arrived to their camp, there was no trace of Frodo anywhere. Allie let go of Sam's hand and scanned the ground, her eyes widening when she saw the traces of struggle by the water. The sand there had been disrupted as though two bodies had wrestled on the ground.

She cursed out loud, and then looked around her at the deserted shore in a panic.

"Frodo!" she screamed with all her strength.

But only the sound of the nearby waterfall answered her.

She wildly passed a hand through her hair, smearing them with blood.

"Where is he?" Sam lamented.

"Where is Frodo?" she asked her wolves. "Find him!"

He's in the woods, one of the recruits answered: "He's with the other Halfling."

She broke into a run back the way she had come from without a single second of delay.

"Allie! Wait! I'm coming with you!" Sam yelled after her.

"No, stay here!" she ordered from above her shoulder.

But Sam didn't listen, and sprinted after her, breathing hard at the climb. Soon he lost sight of her among the trees, but he persisted. He couldn't stay behind when Frodo was still out there.

* * *

Frodo and Merry zigzagged among the trees as fast as they could while a horde of Uruk-Hai chased after them. Frodo had come across Merry soon after he had removed the Ring. He had seen Merry throwing rocks at a group of Uruk-hai as he was trying to evade them. Frodo had picked up rocks of his own and had gone to the aid of his friend without hesitation.

However, now they had given up all pretense of fighting back and merely concentrated on running for their lives.

"How did it come to this?" Merry lamented again.

His foot got caught in a tree root and he yelled as he sprawled down on the ground. Frodo braked to a stop and ran back to him frantically to help him up, but a roaring Uruk-Hai was already upon them. He was so close that Frodo could see his pointy teeth and the cruelty in his eyes. A terrible stench came off his muscled body to assault his senses, nearly making him gag.

He drew his sword and hoped that what he had learned with Allie had not been in vain. To his surprise, the Uruk-hai didn't use his sword, but came to him with his bare hands. Frodo ducked under his outstretched arm, and pushed his blade into his stomach and then withdrew it all in one movement.

The Uruk-hai fell down with a groan.

"Nice one!" Merry cheered.

Frodo shot him an impatient glance. "Now is not the time to cheer, Merry! Keep running!"

However, his eyes widened when he saw more Uruk-hai coming at them from behind, blocking their escape route. They were surrounded!

Merry drew his dagger and stood back to back with Frodo.

Fear overcame Frodo as he took in the circle of enemies approaching inexorably. How could they win? His heart trembled when one of their attackers came at them with an axe. Sting would break under the assault of such a weapon, he was sure.

_When an enemy wields a heavy weapon, the momentum of his attack will also be larger, and he will not be able to correct his trajectory once he starts. You need to predict where he will strike and elude him._

Allie's voice resonated inside his mind.

He took a deep breath and focused his eyes on the muscles of the Uruk-hai's shoulder as the latter lifted his axe above his hideous head.

"Left!" Frodo whispered and then jumped right.

The axe cut off the edge of his hair as it dug into the ground at Frodo's left, just as he had predicted.

"You idiot!" another Uruk screamed hoarsely from behind. "He said untouched and unspoiled!"

The Uruk-hai who had attacked Frodo lifted the axe again with bloodlust in his eyes. "Chopping off an arm should be fine. What will he need it for anyway?"

At that moment, an auburn shape flew onto the Uruk's side and threw him on the ground. The axe fell out of his hands to land a few meters away, and then Pippin's fangs were in the Uruk's neck, tearing open his throat.

"Pippin!" Frodo exclaimed gratefully.

However, his respite was short as tens of other enemies closed in on him from all sides at an alarming speed.

Merry threw rocks at them, but it was a weak attack that left them indifferent and unconcerned. Pippin jumped in front of Merry and Frodo and sprayed out his legs menacingly in a protective stance. His fur was standing up in large spikes as a low growl escaped his throat.

"Kill the beast!" the Uruk-hai, who seemed to be the chief of the group, ordered again in that hoarse voice of his.

At that instant, the sound of a powerful horn filled the space of the forest and bore into their very bones. Hobbits and Uruk-hai alike froze an instant in fear. Then, the monsters started looking around manically, trying to find the source of the sound. They needn't search for long, for Boromir's figure appeared on top of the hill and charged towards them at top speed. He had his sword and shield in hand, and a cry of war was ripping out from his throat.

He charged into the group of Uruk-hai like a windstorm through paper houses, and felled three of them before the others started responding.

"We should run for it!" Merry cried when he saw the opening that Boromir's coming had created.

Pippin agreed with Merry's words and lowered himself in front of Merry and Frodo; the two hobbits quickly mounted onto his back, grabbing fur wherever they could reach.

Pippin immediately lunged over the aperture in the circle of Uruk-hai. As they passed by Boromir, Frodo made eye contact with the Man of Gondor, whose green eyes were fierce and yet full of guilt behind his strands of sandy hair.

Frodo felt sadness overcome him, and then Pippin was bouncing past their enemies and sprinting downhill towards the river.

Suddenly, there was a whistling sound in the air, followed by an acute pain on Frodo's cheek as an arrow grazed past his head. He looked over his shoulder and saw a huge bow pointed towards them, already loaded with another arrow.

One of them hit Pippin in his hind leg and the wolf let out a squeal of pain.

The next second found Frodo and Merry rolling on the ground. Frodo rolled until his back hit a tree trunk. He gasped in pain and lied on his side for awhile, trying to get his breath back.

"Pippin!" Merry cried out as scrambled up on his feet and ran towards the auburn wolf hovering on the ground with an arrow to his leg.

And then Boromir was upon the Uruk-hai who had shot them, cutting off his head.

Frodo's eyes widened when he saw another Uruk-hai pointing an arrow at Boromir's exposed back.

"Careful!" he screamed.

But his warning came too late.

An ominous whoosh filled the air, and then Boromir stumbled forward as an arrow pierced his back.

Horror seized both Frodo and Merry as they felt their knees buckling at the sight of the Man of Gondor crumbling down to his knees.

"Frodo? Frodo!"

Frodo blinked out of his horrified trance at the sound of Allie's voice. He looked over his shoulder and saw her running towards him urgently. When she arrived beside him, her grey eyes assessed the situation rapidly.

Merry had now pulled the arrow out of Pippin's leg, and the auburn wolf was now back up on three legs.

"Pippin! Can you run still?" Allie asked him urgently.

Pippin pressed his injured leg to the floor and snarled in pain, but otherwise kept the weight on that hind leg. "This is nothing," he answered angrily. "I can still fight."

"Then protect Merry and bring him to safety!"

Some Uruk-hai had now detached themselves from the main group circling around Boromir and were making their way towards them, their painted faces ominous amidst the scattered trees.

Seeing this, Allie quickly grabbed hold of Frodo's hand and, without a word, tugged him after her.

Merry's eyes widened. "Where are you going?" he screamed after them as he started running.

However, Pippin closed his fangs on his cape and pulled Merry beside him as he stood facing the oncoming Uruk-hai.

"Wait, Allie! We can't leave them!" Frodo screamed, trying to break free.

Allie clenched her jaw painfully. She knew that all too well, but it was now or never for Frodo to cross the River and go his separate way from the Fellowship. She tightened her hold on his hand and kept pulling him as she ran; at first he resisted, but then his feet were inexorably sweeping him down the hill after her.

She accelerated their pace without looking back when she caught the sound of heavy boots hitting the dirt behind them, giving them pursuit.

They dashed onto the riverbank and stopped at the edge of the water. Without a word, Allie ran to one of the white boats and started pushing it into the river. Frodo's eyes followed her for a second in shock.

"Allie! We cannot leave the Fellowship now!"

"It has to be now!" she grunted as she pushed the boat into the water.

Dark shapes were already appearing at the edge of the trees, coming toward them.

Frodo watched her work for awhile, his blue eyes torn. Finally, letting out a cry of frustration, he pressed his hands to the boat and helped her push it. When the boat was finally fully floating on the water, she threw a furtive glance up the hill. What she saw did not reassure her. "Go now!" she urged.

"But…"

"Go!"

Gritting his teeth, Frodo grabbed the edge of the boat and jumped inside. Allie then slammed the oar into his hands. "Paddle as fast as you can, and don't look back."

Frodo froze. "Wait. What about you? Are we not leaving together?"

She threw another glance over her shoulder. "They are coming, and they have arrows. I need to hold them off. You go on first!"

Frodo didn't make any move, his hands limp around the oar. He just stared at her and slowly shook his head. How did she expect him to leave her behind? Her, of all people? Even if he knew she was doing this for the others...

She stepped into the water right beside the boat and placed her hands over Frodo's holding the oar. "I will go to you later. Please go now, and don't look back! Once you reach the opposite shore, don't linger. I don't know how the battle is going to turn, and some Orcs might chase after you. You have to go as far from the river as you can! I will find you wherever you are in this world!"

Her grey eyes were blazing with certainty as she said this. Frodo studied her face intently. "You are going to be all right, aren't you?"

"Yes," she promised.

"Don't do anything too rash."

"I will not."

The first Uruk-hai emerged from the trees, letting out a wild cry of victory upon spotting them. He pointed them to the others, and then all six of them dashed towards the hobbits and the white boat, leaving huge boot prints on the white sand of the shore.

"I will not die here!" Allie added in a rushed whisper. "And you better not die either! Now go!"

Frodo's eyes roamed across her face urgently. And then she was gone, running towards the dashing Uruk-hai.

Frodo tore his eyes away from her and forced himself to shuffle to the middle of the boat. He started paddling, first on one side of the boat then on the other to try and keep a straight trajectory across the lake. His muscles were soon aching from the frantic exercise, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his chest. It felt as though someone had just ripped part of his heart out and had left it bleeding back on the shore, with Allie.

Allie had told him not to look back, but when he was in the middle of the lake, he couldn't help it: he looked back.

He saw not Allie, but the golden wolf, battling it out with the Uruk-hai. The one holding the bow was already dead and lying in the shallow water, tainting it red. The wolf seemed to be attacking all of her enemies at once, a golden flash on the white shore.

Frodo continued paddling with renewed determination. She was Allie; she would be fine.

He had to believe in that.

* * *

After Allie defeated the six Uruk-hai, she spat out dark blood from her mouth and looked towards the lake. The boat that Frodo was on had already reached the other shore, and there was no sign of him anywhere.

After a last glance towards the opposite shore, she ran as fast as her wolf legs would carry her to where she had last seen Boromir, Pippin and Merry.

When she arrived, she was greeted by a gruesome scene.

The forest ground was littered with corpses, and among them, Boromir laid very still with a broken arrow on his back and two other arrows sticking out of his chest. A trickle of blood was slowly rolling down one side of his mouth.

Aragorn was bent over him, and Boromir was talking painfully in a faint voice that her wolf ears barely managed to catch. He was confessing to Aragorn about trying to take the Ring away from Frodo. Allie paused in her advance; so that explained the wrestling imprints on the shore.

Legolas and Gimli stood in retreat on the side as they looked upon the scene with grief-stricken faces. There was no sign of Merry and Pippin anywhere, and that concerned her. She asked Pippin where he was, and Pippin told her briefly that he was chasing after the Uruk-hai who had taken both Merry and Sam. Allie felt herself tense; so it was bad news all around.

She forced herself to clear her mind, and transformed back into a hobbit. She walked close to Aragorn and Boromir in time to hear the injured man finally acknowledge Aragorn as his king.

Aragorn's eyes were filled with tears, and the sight of that hurt her heart. Boromir didn't deserve to die here. The Ring had had a hold on him and had caused him to act irrationally, but deep down he was a good man, only wanting power to do good.

Her eyes shone with a soft light as she crouched down beside Aragorn to peer into Boromir's face; he was already dying, she could sense it. But he was still conscious. His half closed eyes came to rest on her and he blinked once or twice, as though trying to find his focus.

"I'm so… sorry," he managed to whisper. "I should have listened to you while I still could."

"Don't speak," Allie interrupted him softly.

Boromir coughed and more blood trickled out.

"Do you want to live?" Allie asked him instinctively.

Aragorn whipped his head to look at her, and Boromir opened his eyes once more with difficulty. "It's too late for me," he chocked.

Allie touched his burning forehead and bent down low to whisper in his ear. "You could live… as a wolf, if you choose to do so."

Boromir's breathing quickened, and Aragorn jerked Allie back firmly. "Allie, what are you doing?"

"I'm offering him a second chance," she answered slowly, her grey eyes unwavering under the piercing gaze of the Ranger.

"But he would not remain a Man!" Aragorn retorted.

Allie's deep gaze set on Boromir instead. "The choice is yours. You were a valiant warrior, and there might still be things that you could do if you become a wolf with the knowledge of a Man of Gondor."

Boromir winced as he felt life trickling out of him like water through a hole. The faces of the people bending over him were mere blurs of color now, and their voices seemed to drift to him from across a veil.

His fingers twitched around the broken sword lying in his hand, and he felt blood mounting up his throat, cutting off his air supply. Suddenly, he was very afraid, and Allie's offer seemed bright with the light of salvation. "Yes," he managed to gurgle desperately. He coughed and the taste of blood was in his mouth. "Please…" he begged.

A second later there was a deep and penetrating pain on his shoulder.

Allie licked the blood off her muzzle and turned to see Aragorn starting at her intensely. Her eyes glided to Legolas and Gimli; the Elf was expressionless, but the Dwarf seemed agitated, muttering low under his beard.

Allie slowly swung her tail, and then beckoned to Aragorn to follow her as she carefully trod among the fallen Orc corpses to go to the river.

"Are you angry with me?" she calmly inquired once she had turned back into a hobbit.

Aragorn stood very still a few feet away. "It's not shameful for a warrior to die in battle. You cannot save everyone, Allie. Sometimes, you have to learn to let go."

"He would not have died in peace," Allie replied with her gaze lowered. "That is why I offered him the chance to live again, although a life much different than what he knew."

Aragorn sighed: "It is no use talking about that now. Perhaps one day we will all be glad you did what you did. But in the meantime, there are more pressing matters." His piercing eyes assessed her carefully. "You let the Ring-bearer go alone."

His statement reawakened her sense of urgency. "Yes. And I need to go to him now. What do you plan to do, Aragorn? You have to know what Merry and Sam have been taken prisoners by the Uruk-hai. Pippin tried protecting Merry as best as he could, but he was outnumbered. He barely made it out alive. Pippin also told me that he's on their trail now, but he's injured and he's not progressing very fast. I already sent Councillor after him to help him on his rescue mission."

At that moment, Legolas and Gimli approached. They had been listening to the conversation from the cover of the trees. Legolas stated calmly: "The purpose of the Fellowship is to assist the Ring-bearer. I think we should all go after Frodo."

"Frodo made the decision to go to Mordor without the rest of the Fellowship," Allie confessed slowly. "He is doing this for your sake. The pull of the Ring will become stronger as it gets closer to its master. Frodo doesn't want you to become like Boromir."

Gimli leaned grumpily on his axe. "Us? What about yourself, young lady?"

"It does not affect me in the same way. You might already know this, but being close to it makes me ill. Because of that, I am fairly certain I will never seek to take it for myself. Besides, I made a promise to Frodo that we will journey together till the end. I don't want to break that promise."

Legolas marched resolutely towards a boat and started pushing it in the water. "We have have also made an oath. I still think we should go after the Ring-bearer. This is what we have set out to do from Rivendell. We should honor it till the end."

"Yes," Gimli concurred. "I cannot bring myself to admit that the Fellowship has failed!"

"No."

Everyone turned to look at Aragorn, who was eyeing the opposite bank sadly. "We should let Frodo go. His fate is no longer in our hands."

"You cannot mean what you say!" Gimli exploded. "Then are we supposed to just go back to Rivendell?"

"We are going after Merry and Sam," Aragorn decided. "The wolves will not be able to deal with the Uruk-hai alone."

He kicked one of the corpses on the shore, and the helmet that it had been wearing rolled off its head, revealing the mark of a white hand.

"Saruman was behind the attack," Aragorn explained grimly. "It is most likely the Uruk-hai are bringing Merry and Sam to Isengard."

Arargorn slid his dagger into its sheath and looked at Legolas and Gimli with new determination in his eyes. "The Fellowship will remain intact as long as we hold true to one another. We cannot abandon Merry and Sam to torment and death, not while we have strength left. Leave all that can be spared behind. Travel light. Let us hunt some Orc!"

His determination was contagious and soon convinced the Elf and the Dwarf. "Yes!" Gimli growled as he pumped his fist. Legolas also gave a slight smile of assent after considering his words.

Aragorn turned to Allie, knelt to be at her level and put a hand on her shoulder. "I am leaving Frodo in your hands. Please look after him well. I don't know if we will see each other again, so you have to stay well."

She swallowed hard and nodded, her grey eyes glistening. "And I leave Merry and Sam in your hands, Aragorn. I trust you will be able to rescue them."

They nodded to each other, and then Aragorn stood back up and swiftly ran into the woods without looking back, his cape billowing behind him. Legolas also nodded his goodbye to Allie and then took off. Gimli simply grunted "farewell" and ran after them both.

Allie watched until their shapes disappeared among the trees. "Good luck, friends," she murmured.

Then, she walked to where Boromir's body lay under the shade of the young tree. She knelt beside him and felt for his pulse. It was not there.

She nodded satisfactorily: so the process had started.

Informant and Hunter's shapes detached themselves from a nearby hollow as their paws moved silently over the dead leaves carpeting the moss of the forest floor.

"Informant, stay here and keep watch over Boromir. When he awakens as a wolf, which should be very soon, you two can come after Hunter and me."

"This Man will be part of my unit?" Hunter asked hopefully.

"Yes."

"Ha!" Hunter's unique blue eye gleamed victoriously in Informant's direction, and the black wolf snorted spitefully.

So Hunter and Informant had been fighting to have Boromir. Well, Allie couldn't blame them; Boromir had been a valiant and fearless warrior in his previous life. He would make a good wolf.

"Let's not waste anymore time, Hunter. Let us get going," she said as she stood back up on her feet with her eyes set east.

Hunter lowered his huge frame and Allie climbed on top of him, grabbing the thick fur of his neck. They had a lot of ground to cover till they found a place down the waterfall where they could cross the river. The fastest way would be to use the boats, but Hunter was too heavy for them.

"Frodo, I'm coming," she promised quietly under her breath.

And then Hunter was leaping through the trees like a guff of wind, his powerful legs propelling him further and further with each stride. Allie bent close to his body and pressed her knees against his large flanks. The elastic band came off her hair and her pony tail disentangled into a wave of blonde curls behind her head.

She lashed out a hand to catch the elastic but already it was lost some place behind her. Through her hair, she got a glimpse of Informant staring back at her besides Boromir's body, and then they were both hidden by the trees.

She didn't know what dangers awaited her ahead, but she did not care.

Some of the gory images from the mirror flashed in front of her eyes, but she chased them away impatiently. All that mattered to her was that Frodo was alone right now, trudging through hostile and unknown lands, and she needed to get to him.

As Hunter's powerful legs carried them on top of a high hill, her gaze travelled to the land on the other side of the Anduin. A dark chain of mountains loomed in the far away East, and a red glow danced in the land beyond, as though flames were continuously licking the foot of the mountain on the other side.

Hunter stopped, and both wolf and hobbit gazed at the ominous sight for long minutes.

Then Allie pointed a finger towards the red glow and said: "That is our destination."

Hunter narrowed his unique eye. "Then I will get you there, Queen."

* * *

_Yeah, I know this took longer than usual, but it's been a hectic week! Sorry for the lateness!_


	40. Ent Water

**Ent Water**

Frodo's eyes snapped open as he propped himself up on one elbow, heaving. Traces of the nightmare that had just assaulted him seemed to still linger in front of his eyes. He had to blink hard to make the remnants of the images go away.

He had dreamt of Gandalf as he had last seen him, up there on the Redhorn pass with snow in his beard and eyebrows, and his deep voice saying: "So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."

And then Gandalf had fallen down the precipice. However, for some reason, as the Wizard had fallen, his eyes had kept smiling up at him as though to say everything would be all right.

Frodo rubbed his eyes tiredly. He had not slept for more than three hours at a time ever since he had left the banks of the Anduin, and even when he did sleep, strange shapes and anxious voices populated his dreams.

He looked around emptily, sighing at the desolate scenery of never changing rocks. He had been treading through this stony landscape for two days already, going up one riff expecting to be out of this labyrinth, only to find his path blocked by another impenetrable stone wall. In his attempt to find a detour around the obstacles, he had somehow wound himself even deeper into the ravines of the Emyn Muil.

On the third day, a heavy fog also fell over the land, making it impossible to see two meters ahead. Frodo's progression was painfully slow, and he wasn't even sure whether he was still going in the right direction. When he finally managed to climb out between two big boulders, he saw a series of small rocks piled one on top of the other in a shaky looking structure. The edges of the rocks had been smoothed out by erosion and time, betraying the ancientness of the ensemble.

Frodo's heart literally dropped to his stomach when he saw it. He had just passed by that pile of rocks two hours ago. He was walking in circles! He had never been the best at directions, and now the fog was making matters even worse.

He sank down onto a nearby boulder and let the bag slip off his shoulder. For a few minutes, he just stared blankly at the fog.

Then, he automatically rummaged inside his backpack to see what food he had left. All the normal food was almost gone, and only _lembas_, the Elven bread, remained.

He took a disheartened bite of _lembas_, and then wrapped the whole thing back into its leaf. He couldn't afford to waste food when he was not even making any progress.

Around him, the dense white fog swirled around lazily, masking the rocks and the sky. It felt as though as he had been transported to a world among the clouds, totally separated from everything he'd ever known. The fog muffled all sounds, even his own footsteps when he walked. The dead silence tied his nerves in painful knots that made his heart race and his chest feel compressed.

"I need to keep going," he said out loud to the fog, unable to stand the silence any longer.

The fog seemed almost alive as it ate his words down to their very echo.

Frodo's chest felt suddenly too stuffy, forcing him to pant in order to steal a breath. He knocked at his chest hard with his fist to try and make the choking feeling go away. His movements made the half moon necklace bounce out of his shirt.

He rubbed at its polished surface in a familiar gesture. He hoped she had not been injured in the battle on the banks of the Anduin.

Taking in a deep breath, he appraised the fog with a calmer gaze. His nose had been picking up a quite terrible stench since a while ago. He had avoided going in that direction, but perhaps he should head towards it now. Anything would be salvation if it got him out of the Emyn Muil.

He forced himself to stand back up and to throw his backpack onto his shoulders once more. Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he detected two spots of light observing him. He twirled in that direction brusquely, but the spots of light that had looked like watching eyes had already vanished.

He clenched his teeth and felt for the hilt of Sting.

"Gollum," he muttered to himself grimly.

He did not want to deal with that creature now that he was alone and lost. Why couldn't the thing leave him alone?

He quickly pushed on among the fog once more, following the disquieting smell until he reached the edge of a ravine that seemed to go down pretty deep. How deep, he couldn't tell, for the fog covered the bottom like moving cotton.

He bent down to look and saw that the steep wall seemed to offer adequate leverage that he could use to climb down. But it would be dangerous, especially since he couldn't see the bottom.

He had to take the risk however, or else he might never get out of this place. He took a deep steadying breath to give himself some courage, and then knelt down on top of the precipice.

First, he felt for holds on the rock with his feet, and having found them, he slowly hoisted himself down. His hands were gripping the edge so hard that it was hard to detach them to feel for holds further down. It would have been less perilous and life-threatening if he had had a rope of some sort to secure him in place, but unfortunately all the rope their group carried had been in Sam's bag, and Sam was not here anymore.

No one was here now. He was alone.

Trying not to let such dark thoughts disturb him at such a crucial time, he focused instead all his attention on feeling the holds on the wall. Painfully slow, he started his descent. As he did, he could feel the fog closing in on him as its cold fingers licked across his bare skin.

Suddenly, without warning, the hold he was gripping with his right hand detached itself from the rocky wall. Frodo let out an apprehensive cry as he felt himself inkling backwards towards the void.

He tried to stop his fall by trying to grab onto whatever was in front of him, but he only managed to scratch his hands as he slid down inexorably. For three terrible seconds, he thought the end had come, but then suddenly his feet encountered hard ground underneath. The momentum made him fall on his behind.

He stayed there for a while, breathing heavily with his chest against his knees. When the fear within him subsided somewhat, a dull pain attracted his eyes to his scratched hands. Bits of skin had been ripped off and the cold stung the injuries as they bled.

Gritting his teeth, he took out his handkerchief and awkwardly wrapped it around his left hand to stop the bleeding. Then, he tore off a piece of his shirt and wrapped it around his right hand with the help of his teeth.

Then, he stood up with an effort, made sure his bag was still secure on his shoulders, and trod on along the cliff, sometimes pausing and leaning against it to rest. He walked on, unaware of which direction he was going in, only automatically following the smells of putrefaction drifting through the fog.

Scorching pain shot up from his hands whenever he squeezed the bandages too tight, so he cradled his hands to his chest instead. From time to time, it seemed to him that he heard light footsteps following him from behind, but every time he looked over his shoulder to check if someone was there, his gaze only met empty fog.

When night fell, rain clouds gathered on top of the Emyn Muil and torrential rain started pouring down. Frodo quickly stepped under a thin roof jutting out from the side of the cliff. He pulled his hood over his head and crouched down against the wet rocks.

The rain soon chased the fog away, and suddenly he could see the path he had borrowed to come to where he was. It was a thin path between two tall cliffs, zigzagging in between the rocks. Seeing it clearly like this, it suddenly occurred to him that maybe he had made a grave mistake by climbing down the cliff. With his hands injured, it would be very hard for him to climb back up if he ever needed to.

He knew Gollum was lurking somewhere nearby, watching him from across the rain. If he fell asleep or let down his guard, the creature might kill him and take the Ring, and then it would all be over.

He wondered what he should do. The rain had managed to mask the smells of putrefaction he had been using as guide. Perhaps he should wait until the rain had passed.

He wrapped his cape more tightly around himself and waited. The minutes slowly chimed by, seemingly as slow as the crawling of a snail. In the quiet, the sound of the rain as it hit the ground was almost deafening. However, instead of alarming him, he was feeling peace invade his body one section at a time. His limbs relaxed, and he stopped gritting his teeth. Even the pain in his hands slowly dulled.

Had the sound of raindrops hitting the ground always been so comforting?

Not truly knowing what he was doing, he stood up and stepped out of the poor shelter that the roof of the cliff offered. The cold rain immediately hammered down his hood, running down his cheeks like tears as he lifted his face towards the rainy skies. He closed his eyes and took a kind of strange pleasure in the way the rain drops soaked into his clothes.

A memory from the past drifted into his mind. It was Allie as a young hobbit girl, smiling a liberating smile as she stood there with her arms wide open and her face lifted to the skies as she twirled around herself in the rain.

"The rain is the answer to getting rid of your angry thoughts," she had said.

He had only been a child back then, and he had not understood the meaning behind her words. But now, he was finally starting to.

"Frodo!"

He slowly opened his eyes.

Allie was standing there in front of him, heaving as though she had just run a marathon. Her wet hair was placated to her head and neck, and she was looking at him with wide eyes full of relief.

He blinked hard, thinking the image in front of him must have been a continuation of his inner musings. However, when he opened his eyes again, the illusion of her persisted across the curtain of dark rain.

She was advancing towards him now, and her voice rose above the sound of the rain hitting the rocks: "Frodo, I'm sorry it took me longer than expected. I don't know what it is about this place, but it was extremely hard to track your scent in the Emyn Muil. Are you all right? Why are you standing in the rain like this?"

She was standing in front of him now, almost close enough to touch, and he could feel the heat of her presence.

Slowly, he cupped her warm cheek with his bandaged hand.

"You are really here…" he let out.

Allie's eyes widened when she saw his hand. "Frodo! What happened to your…"

But she was cut off by the sudden embrace she found herself in. Frodo was hugging her so tight that all her breath was driven out of her. Slowly, Allie grabbed onto his cloak and locked her arms around him comfortingly. The rain was pounding the ground all around them and was cold on their skin, but none of them felt it.

"I have never been good with directions…" Frodo whispered.

Allie passed a reassuring hand through his hair. "Luckily for you, I am. Or rather, it is more truthful to say that my nose is."

Slowly, he pulled away from her and stared at her face with tenderness. "I'm glad to see you are safe."

"So am I," she replied softly.

She caressed his bandaged hands, and then leaned in to deposit a light kiss on his lips. Before she could pull away, he kept her close to him and prolonged it for a few seconds more. Her lips were warm and she tasted like the wild rain.

"Come on," she said afterwards. "We should take shelter."

She pulled him back towards the rocky cliff. Frodo sat down beside her with his back against the stone, and then wrapped his cloak around the both of them.

"Get a good rest. Tomorrow we are getting out of here," she told him more seriously. "There is something about this place that I do no like."

Frodo thought about Gollum, and could not help scanning the dark rocks towering all around them, looking for signs of shiny eyes.

* * *

Pippin licked at the wound on his leg again. The damn Orc arrow had been poisoned, and as a consequence, the wound was taking longer than usual to heal. Every time he put weight on his leg, a sharp pain rose all the way to his chest. The auburn wolf growled distastefully and licked at it again.

The Uruk-hai who had taken Merry and Sam were now running across the plains of Rohan, a territory that Pippin had not ventured in too often in his years as a wolf, for the landscape offered little protection for animals such as him. The riders of Rohan were not fond of wolves and shot them down whenever they saw one.

Pippin wanted to catch up to Merry and Sam as soon as possible, but for some reason, even though he ran as fast as he could, the distance between him and his prey kept growing.

"A dark power is at work in these plains, slowing us down," Councillor's voice stated in his head.

Pippin glared over his shoulder and saw the brown wolf approaching, his fur gleaming in a gradation of colors under the sun.

"Did Allie send you?" Pippin asked.

Councillor nodded once, and then continued with what he was saying before: "These are Orcs of Saruman, so there is only one place they could be going."

"Isengard," Pippin agreed grimly.

Councillor pointed his nose in the air and stayed there for long minutes, immobile. Finally, his brown eyes settled on Pippin once more. "The Uruk-hai's path to Isengard runs alongside Fangorn forest. Saruman's arm has not yet grown long enough to control the forest where ancient things lay in slumber. If we cross Fangorn, we might be able to cut off the path of the Uruk-hai before they reach Isengard."

Pippin meditated on this issue for a while. "I trust your judgement, Councillor," he finally said. "We will go into Fangorn then."

The two wolves then trod silently through countryside once more, as silent as shadows. They soon left the plains behind them until they reached the edge of Fangorn forest. At the place where the plains ended and the woods began stood a clear demarcation of thick wood and dense foliage. It was literally a barrier of vegetation that seemed to discourage any potential intruders.

Pippin sniffed the closest tree carefully, half expecting the branches to come alive. However, the tree remained as still as a tree was supposed to be.

"This reminds me of the Old Forest, close to my hometown," Pippin said.

Councillor nodded. "Perhaps once upon a time, this forest covered all the land from here to the Shire. But then, civilization appeared along with its factories, and roads, and towns, and the forest was cut in half. In any case, this is the heart of the woodlands, where ancient pieces of consciousness still abound. Be careful."

That being said, the brown wolf pushed his way into the green mass of leaves and creepers. Pippin watched his shape being engulfed by the forest, and hesitated for a moment before following after him. The caress of the leaves on his fur was unpleasant and made him shake his head violently as though to get rid of cobwebs.

Beyond that first barrier, however, the space opened up somewhat on the other side, even though the air was still stuffy, and no visible sky could be seen under the tall ceiling of the trees. Thick sinuous roots rose above the ground from various places to plunge back into the earth a few meters away.

Pippin tried to be more silent then he usually was as he limped after Councillor. Often, he had to duck underneath an arching root or get around poisonous ivy. Councillor never hesitated as he led the way, and Pippin was reassured by that. The smell of the forest was so strong that it overcame all his senses. No matter how hard he tried to detect other odors, every time he sniffed the air, the scent of moss, damp earth and leaves in decomposition immediately assaulted his nose, masking all other scents. He even had trouble smelling Councillor who was merely a few meters ahead of him.

Pippin lost all notion of time as he wandered in the forest. He asked Councillor various times whether he was sure they were going in the right direction, but every time Councillor's mild voice reassured him that they were.

After what seemed like two days of trudging through the mossy ground of Fangorn, Councillor suddenly paused in his advance. At first, Pippin thought it was time for a break and rejoiced in that (he hadn't had anything to eat in two days, and was craving some meat), but soon he came to realize that something was wrong.

Councillor's fur was on edge and his ears were standing straight in alert. Pippin slowly came to stand beside him.

"What is the m…"

Councillor's teeth on his shoulder made Pippin shut up. "Let me concentrate," Councillor growled as his eyes scanned the trees around them.

At first Pippin didn't feel anything unusual, but then it dawned on him that the atmosphere in the forest had changed. There was now a sort of sizzling energy running through the bark of trees, rustling in the leaves and vibrating in the earth under his paws. It felt as though they were standing on the back of a big monster that was slowly coming awake.

Councillor crouched down low, his eyes surveying the surroundings carefully. Suddenly, he let out a growl of alert and jumped ten feet away, barely missing the blow issued by one of the branches of the tree that was growing near the place he had been. Pippin looked at it in awe, for the tree itself was now moving. Its roots were snatching themselves out of the ground and then reaching forwards again as it moved towards the two wolves.

Pippin bore his fangs at it and growled menacingly, but the tree was unfazed. A knot of roots shot in his direction like a club, barely missing him.

"Run!" Councillor barked at Pippin. "We are no opponent for him. He will crush us to death. Run!"

Pippin felt a deep shudder when he saw eyes looking back at him from the trunk of the tree. Then, he obeyed Councillor's command and turned tail to run as fast as his legs could carry him. The moving tree threw itself at their pursuit, but it was slow, and the trees and bushes growing along the path hindered its progression. Soon, the two wolves lost it in the distance.

"So the old legends about the Old Forest were true! Trees are alive and can snatch you away from your house!"

Councillor directed a sideways glance to him and sighed at his childishness. "I don't know if there are any Ents left in the Old forest, but here in Fangorn, their presence is undeniable."

"Ents?" Pippin exclaimed. "I have never heard of such beings."

"They are shepherds and guardians of the forest. Their hatred for the White Wizard runs deep, for Saruman has been cutting down trees from Fangorn forest to build a dam for his factory."

"Is that why he attacked us?" Pippin pondered. "He thought we were with Saruman?"

Councillor threw Pippin a curious look. "He probably mistook us for Wargs."

Pippin's fur stood up on edge in indignation. "Wargs? We are nothing like those brainless creatures!"

Councillor flipped his ears patiently. "But the Ents do not know that. And there is no way we can communicate with them to make them understand."

Pippin sighed. "What do we do now, then? We have to cross that place again if we are to go towards the Uruk-hai."

Councillor nodded. "I don't know how many Ents are here in Fangorn, but it does not matter. We are faster than they are. We just have to be wary of their disguise as normal trees."

In the meantime, the two wolves had reached a clearing and the sound of falling water reached their ears. The two wolves slowly paddled past an old willow tree and saw a basin of clear blue water by the side of a creek. There, the trees were less dense and sunlight reached the forest floor, creating patches of bright light.

The two wolves went to the basin and eagerly lapped up the clear and refreshing water. Maybe it was because Pippin had not drunk anything in two days, but the water tasted especially delicious and revitalizing as it ran down his throat and moisturized his mouth.

When Councillor's thirst was satiated, he licked at his muzzle and then lied down on the mossy ground in a ball of fur. Pippin nudged him impatiently with his nose. "Can we afford a break? We might not make it in time."

"The Uruk-hai are taking the long way around. We will be ahead of them," he assured the younger wolf calmly.

Pippin let himself be convinced by Councillor's reassuring tone, and lied down on the floor with his back against his. Soon, the sound of the water made him drift to sleep.

* * *

Frodo opened his eyes a slight when the pale morning light reached his face from beyond the rocky cliffs. He had not felt this warm and rested for a long time now. He slowly turned on his back and reached out an arm to where Allie was lying, but his fingers encountered fur instead.

He opened his eyes completely, turned on his side and encountered the sight of the sleeping she-wolf. Frodo felt a wave of tenderness as he took in her slender muzzle, her soft fur and the way her tail was wrapped around him like a blanket. But then he frowned. Why was she in wolf form?

He sat up and shook her frame.

"Allie! Wake up!"

Two silver eyes snapped open and pierced him like a sword. Then, her gaze relaxed upon recognizing his face.

Allie stood up on her wolf legs and blinked confusedly for a second or two. Then, she stared at Frodo intensely through her wolf eyes, and then she was shifting, almost blurring, as her fur receded and her frame slimmed down until she became a hobbit again.

Frodo watched the scene, fascinated. He had seen her transformation many times now, but it could still take his breath away.

Allie picked herself up from the ground and rubbed at her face tiredly. When she let her hands drop, Frodo noticed that they were shaking.

"What's wrong?" he asked her with concern.

Allie took a deep breath. "I transformed when I was asleep. Pippin told me that's what happened to him before he…"

She didn't need to say anything more as she saw comprehension dawn on his face.

Frodo was silent for a moment, but then he just went to her and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Allie smiled uncertainly at him and tried to stifle the wild pounding of her heart. She told herself she knew this was going to happen in the near future. She needed to accept it already.

Suddenly, she detected movement from the corner of her eye.

A second later, a shrill and inhuman scream pierced their ears.

Frodo startled and jumped around to face the origin of the sound, his hand flying to his sword. Allie put a hand on his arm to stop him, for in front of them, Hunter had bounced out from behind a pile of rocks with a squirming creature in his jaw.

Frodo's grip on his sword went limp as a mixture of disgust and apprehension filled his features. "It's Gollum…" he muttered faintly.

The creature was slimy and dirty, with long and scrawny limbs, and big bulging blue eyes. As of now, it was wriggling, kicking and hissing like a wild cat as it dangled from the large grey wolf's jaw. It tried to knock out the wolf with his fists and feet, but Hunter remained impassive, his unique blue eye riveted on Allie, awaiting orders.

"_I found him lurking from behind a pile of rocks. He has been following you for a while now_," he informed her.

"_I know_," she replied,_ "I've caught his treacherous scent ever since we came down this way."_

"Put us down! Put us down you filthy vile beast!" Gollum was screeching in a throaty voice that made her hair stand on edge.

His whiny and strident voice created echoes among the rocks and reverberated loudly in the Emyn Muil. Allie looked around uncertainly, afraid that his cries would attract unwanted attention to their group.

"Kill him," she ordered Hunter out loud. "Just snap his filthy neck and let us be done with him once and for all."

Hunter's unique blue eye glinted with anticipation and he pressed his fangs a little deeper into the skin of Gollum's neck. Gollum's movements became frantic with the force of desperation as he cried and kicked and tried to push himself away from the wolf. After a brusque pull, he actually managed to break free from Hunter's teeth by ripping off the skin of his neck. As soon as Gollum's body hit the floor, he turned over with surprising speed and started crawling away like a spider.

The grey wolf immediately spat out the piece of skin and then jumped at his pursuit. Gollum's movements were slick and fast, but Hunter was faster. In two bonds, he was right on Gollum's tail, and in three bonds he had pinned the creature to the ground. Gollum started shrieking manically, his arms moving so fast they almost seemed a blur.

Hunter let out a growl of anger and opened his jaw as wide as it could go, and then closed his fangs around Gollum's head. Gollum immediately stopped struggling as he lay there on the ground, heaving. Even he knew that with one false movement, the wolf's teeth would crack his head open like an egg.

Allie slowly made her way to Hunter's side, with Frodo trailing behind.

She watched Gollum for a second and slowly crouched beside his head caught in the wolf's saliva-coated fangs.

"Sneaking around, aren't we?" she asked disdainfully. "What do you want?"

One globular blue eye fixed on her, filled with fear and resentment. "The Preciouuus," he hissed slowly.

Frodo's hand went to clutch at the Ring automatically. Allie saw that from the corner of her eye and then fixed her gaze back on Gollum. "The Precious? There's nothing like that here."

"Liar!" Gollum spat, but then became immobile again when Hunter increased the pressure around his skull.

"Why they lies to us?" he moaned. "They has our Precious, we've seen it! We wants it back. It was ours to begin with. Ours! Please ask furry beast to lets us go. Its hurting us… hurting us…"

"You deserve every minute of pain! However, we don't have time to waste torturing you, so rest assured, your death will be fast," Allie stated coldly. She looked up at Hunter and gave a nod. Hunter nodded back and started closing his jaw. Gollum let out a bloodcurdling scream that even made Allie wince.

"Wait!" Frodo suddenly cried out as he stepped forward. "Allie, ask your wolf to stop!"

Allie turned towards Frodo. "Why?"

Frodo looked from Gollum to Allie, and then said: "Don't you remember what Aragorn told us? He said perhaps Gollum still has a role to play, for good or for evil!"

Allie rolled her eyes. "Do you seriously believe that? What possible role can this creature play, except for murdering you in your sleep when you least expect it?"

Frodo looked at Gollum and Gollum looked back pleadingly.

"I don't know," the Ring-bearer finally conceded softly. "I have always wondered why Bilbo didn't kill him when he had the chance, but seeing him here now, I think I understand my uncle a little bit better. Now that I look at him, I do pity him."

Incredulity filled Allie's traits at the same time as Gollum croaked in an imploring voice: "Yes… yes… we are pitiful… poor us, poor us. Not our fault!" His eyes then lit up. "Master of Precious understands. Be good to us, and we swear to serve the Master of the Precious. We swear it… we swear it on the Precious! Yes… the Preciousss..."

"Stop talking," Allie grunted in his direction.

To her consternation however, Frodo went to Hunter and gently placed a hand on the wolf's head. "Let him go," Frodo begged softly.

Hunter's eye rolled in Allie's direction. Allie watched Frodo's back in intent silence for a while before she said with barely contained frustration: "Frodo, what are you thinking? He might escape if Hunter lets him go. He might even attack you! Don't listen to his empty promises! He swears to help you? I'd rather trust an Orc!"

"Master is looking for a way out of the rocky walls," Gollum stated hopefully, blinking away a patch of saliva that rolled down Hunter's fangs to fall on his face. "We knows the way out! We could lead you out!"

"Nice try," Allie snorted. "I know the way out too. We don't need _you_ to lead us anywhere!"

Frodo turned to face her and met her stern grey eyes. He walked to her and put both hands on her shoulders. "Allie, we might need his help later on down the road. He has been to Mordor, remember? Maybe he could show us the way!"

"I've seen Mordor from far away. I know how to get us there, Frodo! We don't need him! Are you really going to be able to sleep with him by our side? Because I know I surely will not be able to!"

For a couple of seconds, the two hobbits just stood there staring at each other. Finally, Allie moved forward and rested a hand on his. "You are kind, Frodo," she whispered. "But this time, you have to trust me."

Frodo's gaze softened. "I do. But please, don't kill him. Just let him go free."

Allie mulled this over in her head as her eyes deviated to Gollum, lying very still in Hunter's jaw. She did not understand Frodo's sudden sympathy for the foul and smelly creature. If it had been anyone else making this request, she would have gone ahead with her better judgement. However, this was Frodo, and she respected his opinion.

"_Let him go_," she told Hunter.

Hunter released Gollum immediately and stood back. Gollum fell down on the ground on all-fours among the pond of wolf-saliva that had formed around him. His eyes carefully assessed both hobbits and the wolf before he suddenly hissed angrily like a cat, showing his broken teeth, before disappearing among the rocks like a snake.

As soon as he left, Allie had the distinct certainty that they had made a mistake.

"He will be back, you know? For that," she pointed at the silver chain around Frodo's neck.

The Ring-bearer said nothing.

Allie swallowed down her frustration and dryly said: "Let's get out of here. I have had enough of this place."

Frodo watched her walk away with a heavy heart. He knew she was cross with him, and truly, he also had trouble fully understanding the feeling that had come over him. He'd always thought that if ever he came across Gollum, he wouldn't make the same mistake his uncle had made. However, seeing that wrecked creature in the flesh, and knowing that the thing that had made him that way was now around his own neck… he had felt a sense of kinship to the creature, as though their fates were linked. The thought disgusted him, but at the same time conferred upon him a feeling of pity.

"Does he really deserve to die this way after having his soul destroyed by the Ring?" was what kept flashing though his mind.

Hunter's single blue eye invaded his field of vision and he startled. He could see his own astounded face reflected in the sky blue iris of the wolf. Hunter gave him a shove forward with his tail, urging him to walk after Allie, and Frodo complied.

They walked in silence for many hours, climbing up the broken slopes of the Emyn Muil, until finally they emerged out in the open. Before him, Frodo saw the largest marshland he had ever seen in his entire life. It stretched out in front of him for kilometers and kilometers, and a queasy stench drifted up from the still waters.

"The Dead Marshes," Allie announced with a hand in front of her nose.

Hunter shook his large head and made a retching sound.

Frodo also covered up his nose, not daring think how much more terrible the stench must appear to Allie and Hunter's more sensitive noses.

"Are we crossing it?" he asked.

"Only if you want to swim among dead corpses and slimy plants and risk passing out from the smell," she stated sarcastically. "No, we are going around it."

Frodo tensed at the tone of her voice. "Allie, if you have something to say, say it. You are not fine at all with my decision to let Gollum go."

Two grey eyes fixed upon him. "You are right," she answered honestly. "It will come back to haunt us! You must have had a reason for it. What is it exactly?"

Frodo's hand closed around the Ring. "I could not stand seeing him die in such fashion. The Ring made him into the creature he now is. Maybe... maybe when I destroy the Ring, he will be able to revert to the way he was before."

Allie sighed. "Frodo, you are too kind-hearted sometimes. Most of the time, it is a good thing, but in this situation... Let us face what is really in front of us. We have a long way to go before we reach Mordor. The road is treacherous enough by itself. If on top of that we have Gollum trying to ambush us at every turn, we will never make it!"

Frodo felt the beginning of the headache pounding behind his eyes. "That is why you should have let me talk to him. He was willing to guide us to Mordor. You know how the saying goes: keep your friends close, but your enemies closer."

"Not when they are close enough to strangle you in your sleep!" She rubbed her forehead tiredly, still trying not to retch from the smell of the Marshes. "Look, we do not see eye to eye on this matter, so let us just drop it. The road is long."

She signalled to Hunter and the grey wolf approached and bent his legs.

"We will let Hunter carry us to the Black Gate. It will be much faster that way."

Frodo remained silent. The Ring felt very heavy around his neck. He did not know when it had started to weigh down on him in this fashion. He grabbed Hunter's grey fur and slowly climbed upon his back. Hunter was taller than the tallest pony he had ridden when he was still in the Shire.

Before, he would have felt a sense of wonder upon seeing the world from this height, but now he only had a sense of gloom and frustration. Allie did not understand him because she was not the one carrying the Ring. However, he did not say that out loud.

Allie climbed up in front of him and clenched the fur on Hunter's neck.

"Hang on tight," she reminded him.

And then, Hunter launched himself into a full run.

* * *

Pippin opened his eyes as the first ray of sunlight pierced across the treetops to reach the clearing and the creek. He shook his head sleepily, for he had the impression that his ears were muffled. The sound of the falling water seemed weaker, or perhaps it had integrated so well into his surroundings that he barely noticed it anymore.

He rolled twice on the grass and then lied there on his belly.

He shivered and sneezed. It was chilly in the forest in the morning.

Something was wrong, however. Something felt different.

Slowly, he pushed himself up on his hands.

"Hands?" he said out loud as he eyed the extended palms on the grass that held up his upper body.

He snapped his eyes open wide and blinked incomprehensibly at the sight of his hands. Then, he bounced up onto his feet and looked down at his body in amazement and disbelief. He was a hobbit again! And totally naked just like every time he abandoned his wolf body.

"I'm a hobbit again!" he screamed out the words, and then looked around himself, his heart giving a concert of its own inside his chest.

He let out a trill of laughter and started running around the clearing, screaming at the top of his lungs: "I cannot believe it! This is fantastic! This is a miracle! May the Valar, or whoever allowed this to happen, be blessed! I must tell Merry! No, I must inform Allie first!"

A movement near the creek attracted his attention, and he froze immediately and crouched down low, his wolf instincts kicking in.

There was a man lying down on the grass near the creek, and he was waking up. Pippin crawled closer to take a good look at him. It was not a Man, but an Elf, with pointy ears and thick brown hair that sprawled around his naked body.

Pippin had never seen him in his life, and yet his presence felt extremely familiar.

The Elf chose that moment to open his eyes. They were deep and bottomless, like melted chocolate. Pippin knew those eyes all too well.

"C-Councillor?" he stuttered.

The Elf sat up without a word, and looked from himself to Pippin, to himself again. He raised a trembling hand and clumsily touched his face, like a baby learning to move around for the first time.

The Elf then turned towards Pippin with wonder on his timeless face. He opened his mouth and a tentative sound escaped his lips. He touched a hand to his throat, surprised, and then tried again:

"Protector? You can hear my voice?"

Pippin nodded excitedly with a broad smile. The Elf's voice was identical to the one that resounded in his spirit every time they communicated via the Blood. Pippin knelt down in front of the Elf and grasped his hands. "You are not a wolf anymore, and neither am I! I don't know how this came to be, but it's a miracle!"

Councillor looked around himself as though in a dream, and then stood up ungainly on his feet. At first he bent forwards, almost losing his balance, but then slowly, he straightened his back and looked down at Pippin in disbelief.

"I am back to being myself…" he whispered hoarsely. "The sound of my voice…how strangely does it ring at my ears!"

"How… I mean, what do you think led to this change? Could it be the Forest?"

Councillor shook his head. "I have been in Fangorn before. It is not the forest."

His eyes traveled across the clearing and fell on the creek. Pippin followed his gaze and understanding washed over his features. "You don't think…" he whispered shakily. "The Ent water…?"

Councillor knelt down by the creek and wet a finger in the water before sucking it into his mouth. He remained pensive for a long moment, while Pippin paced around him, restless.

"Yes, I believe it's the water," he finally concluded. "The water here has properties unknown even to the wisest among my kin. The Ents depend on it, and trees from the Old Age can be awakened by it. Perhaps it chased the wolf away, at least for a time."

Pippin sat cross-legged in front of Councillor, and for once his eyes were completely serious. "What are wolves? Where do we come from? If it can be affected by the water, does it mean it's an entity as old as the Ents themselves?"

Councillor's deep eyes appraised him. "Wolves are wolves. They are an animal like any other. However, something happened a long time ago that made us different, that gave the first wolves intelligence, ambitions and dreams. Suddenly they were not purposeless anymore, but became creatures with drive and hierarchy."

Pippin was hanging on his every word. "What is that thing that made wolves intelligent?"

Councillor lost himself in the contemplation of the creek. "I believe it is what we call the Blood."

"What is the Blood? I thought it was a part of the wolves!"

Councillor shook his head. "No, my friend. The Blood controls us, in a way. You can think of it as a bacteria, a host. It is using the wolves to survive and reproduce itself. Every time the Queen bites a person and turns them into a wolf, the Blood is expanding. It is because of the Blood that we can do what we do. Talking to each other over long distances and gauging each other's feelings… It is made possible because the Blood is the common link. And this mysterious thing, in spite of being separated into so many wolf bodies, it still remains a single entity with its own intelligence. It is a scary thought, isn't it?

Pippin stared in shock and said nothing.

Councillor gauged him carefully. "We use the Blood for our own purposes, but the Blood also uses us. It is a symbiosis. I have gleaned this information from ancient records that I have come across when I was still living in the woods. It is not something that should be spread about carelessly, for the knowledge could drive some wolves mad. "

For the longest time, Pippin remained silent. Then his green eyes fell on Councillor once more, and his voice was calm when he said: "The Ent water might be the key to reverse the transformation. We should inform the Queen right away."

Councillor shook his head. "Not yet. Only when we are certain that the water is indeed responsible."

Pippin was about to complain when Councillor added: "I tried communicating with our pack, but I could not."

Pippin, bewildered, tried it as well and came to the same conclusion. The Blood link was gone. The Elf's face was grave as he stated: "At this point, I do not know if this discovery is a blessing or a curse. Returning to my former self is a blessing, but losing contact with the pack when we have such an important task ahead of us is very problematic."

Pippin sighed. "If Allie knows about this, she will want to try it and risk losing contact with the pack. It could be dangerous... I understand your reticence now, Councillor."

The Elf nodded softly. "You are becoming wiser now."

Pippin's green eyes riveted onto his. "So now what?"

"Now..." Councillor explained. "We wait and hope the reversal is only temporary."

* * *

Hey guys, I'm really sorry for the loooong delay, but I've been extremely busy with no strike of inspiration to write. It's a good thing I had the whole story planned out already or I'd be screwed llol!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I wanna thank ALL of you for your assiduous support! It means a lot to me that so many people still care about this story! I owe it for all you, and this chapter was for you!

As it stands, I don't know when the next chapter will be up, especially since I'm leaving the country for two weeks in january. However, I promise you that I'm not abandoning this story or anything. It might take me longer than anticipated to finish it, but I will see it through!

Thank you again for everything! I love you all!

Happy Holidays! :)

ps: 100 reviews? wow you guys are awesome! :D


	41. Rupture

**Rupture**

Pippin was pacing anxiously from one end of the clearing to the other. If he had been under his wolf form, he would have been snarling as well. When Councillor intimated him to settle down, he twirled brusquely and snapped: "Two days! It has been two days since we drank that water, and still we are stuck in our previous forms! We cannot contact the other wolves, and we have been walking in the forest nonstop without reaching the western border, or any border, for that matter. I'm sure we must have missed the Uruk-hai by now..."

He pulled on his blonde hair, now long and shaggy, and glared with mounting anger at Councillor lazying around naked against a tree.

"How can you be so relaxed when we are failing the mission that Allie has given us?"

Two melted brown eyes studied Pippin's face. "I am as concerned as you are about seeing to our rescue mission, Protector, but I have not been idle. The trees are talking, telling some interesting tales."

Pippin stared at him as though he'd gone nuts. "You've been listening to tree gossip? Is that trunk complaining about squirrel droppings right now?"

Councillor ignored his sarcasm and responded placidly: "The Uruk-hai are dead, and there are intruders on the western border."

Pippin fell silent at this. "Is that true?"

There was a brushing sound among the leaves over his head even though there was no wind, and Pippin looked up in disquiet.

"I can seize the essence of their messages," Councillor's voice replied. "Whoever those intruders might be, we are now marching to meet them. Perhaps it's your hobbit friends who escaped the Uruk-Hai, or perhaps they are the Uruk-hai themselves. Either way, we will know when we meet them. They are close now, I can feel it."

Pippin squint his eyes and tried to see through the dark green depths of the wood, but saw no movement. "I would be more comfortable facing enemies if I didn't have a leaf wrapped around my waist for all garment," he grumbled.

Councillor almost seemed amused. "As a wolf, you should be used to the lack of garments by now."

"Only when I'm in my wolf form, which is not the case right now."

His eyes roamed over Councillor's naked body and he looked away, sighing. "You should cover yourself up as well. If only for protection. Our skin is thinner and more vulnerable in this form. It's not suited for battle."

Councillor jumped up to his feet, agile as a cat, his long brown hair cascading down his shoulders. Pippin was about to continue his speech when the Elf bounced to him and seized him by the neck in a wolf-like manner. "Silence," his brown eyes said.

Pippin's guard immediately went up, and he crouched down low, scanning his surroundings and sniffing at the air. However, his hobbit nose was useless in picking up anything substantial apart from the stench of rotting leaves.

In spite of his handicap, he soon felt what Councillor must have felt seconds ago: a regular pounding rising from the earth under his feet. The vibrations felt familiar...

Pippin suddenly remembered the first time they had met an Ent in Fangorn. The Ent had been chasing after them, and the vibrations from its feet made of roots had made the forest floor tremble in much the same way. Pippin's green eyes crossed those of Councillor, and the Elf confirmed his fears.

Councillor pointed towards the bushes and both Elf and hobbit dove behind the protection of the leaves. Seconds later, a marching tree appeared at the edge of the woods, between two gnarled trees. There was a rumbling sound coming from it as it advanced (faster than Pippin would have thought possible). Councillor and Pippin realized at the same time that the tree was actually speaking in the common tongue:

"...when woodland halls are green and... cool, and the wind is in the West, come back to me... come... back to me, and say my land is... best."

Pippin was about to signal to Councillor to escape when he spotted the two figures caught in the tree's hands. "It's Merry and Sam!" he whispered furiously.

Before Councillor could hold him back, Pippin dashed through the bushes to stand in front of the advancing Ent. The trembling in the earth stopped as the Ent jerked to a sudden halt.

"By my beard," the tree rumbled breathlessly. "Another one."

"Let them go, tree!" Pippin yelled up defiantly, his green eyes shining.

"Pippin?" Merry screamed back in disbelief. "Is that you? But... I thought..."

"Long story," Pippin answered. "First I need to save you."

"We need no saving, Mr. Pippin," Sam interrupted. "Treebeard is a friend of Gandalf. We are safe with him!"

Pippin marked a pause before suspicion filled his eyes. "You shouldn't believe everyone who proclaims to be a friend of Gandalf. The old Wizard is dead, and the dead cannot come back to confirm said friendship."

Merry was shaking his head violently with a big grin as his legs dangled in mid-air.

"Gandalf is not dead. We just saw him, Pippin! He's alive, and it was he who told us to remain with Treebeard."

It was Pippin's turn to look speechless.

"And he's Gandalf the White now," added Sam, for good measure.

Pippin's posture became a bit less defensive, but still he kept a suspicious eye on Treebeard, who was silently gauging the entire scene. After all, the hobbit wasn't ready to forget how the first Ent they had met had attacked them out of nowhere.

Councillor chose that moment to step out. Sam's mouth fell agape at the sight of his nudity, and then he quickly looked away with reddened cheeks.

Treebeard shuffled tremulously at the sight of the Elf, making his leaves rustle. "Oh," he let out breathlessly. "I haven't laid eyes upon... a child of the forest for a long... long time."

Councillor gave a gentle nod. "Treebeard, is it? Well met, friend."

"You taught us how to... speak and walk. Treebeard remembers. A memory as ancient as the golden light of sun on rain-filled leaves... and the smell of earth."

"Elves indeed created the first Ents, shepherds of the forest. However, I am an Elf no more. It's been more than five hundred years since I have become a wolf."

Sam and Merry exchanged a puzzled look, having never met Councillor in his wolf form. A veil fell upon Treebeard's ageless eyes, and he bent his gnarled knees to bring his face closer to the surface of the ground. "Wolves are creatures of... Saruman the Betrayer."

"Those would be Wargs," Pippin retorted.

The forest air shook with Treebeard's grumble. "They are the same."

"They are not," Pippin refuted firmly. "All the wolves west of Fangorn are in my Queen's pack, and my Queen is your ally in this war."

"War? Little Orc... Ents do not participate in the wars of... this world. We do not take sides."

"But you do consider Saruman as your enemy. My Queen is also an enemy of Saruman. The enemy of your enemy is your friend."

Treebeard seemed quite puzzled at those words and took a moment to turn them around in his head.

"There is some sense in that, little Orc."

"I am no Orc. I am a hobbit and a wolf," Pippin declared proudly.

Treebeard regarded them longer pensively. "But you do not look like wolves. Neither of you... do."

"We drank from the creek in the clearing and returned to our previous forms," Councillor explained. "What is that water, Treebeard?"

Treebeard was silent for a long time, so long that the others feared he had fallen asleep. But finally he shook himself and simply said : "Oh."

Merry patted his forehead. "Do you have an explanation for it?" he asked impatiently from beside Treebeard's face.

One of the Ent's eyes rolled to look at him. "Now, now, don't be... hasty. The water in Fangorn has been here for a very... long time. As long as Ents have walked this...earth, probably even longer. It nourishes the trees and... makes them grow strong. It awakes those who... are in slumber."

"And yet it puts the Blood to sleep," Councillor muttered to himself.

He turned to Pippin. "Protector, the task that Queen has given us has been completed. Your friends are safest as they can be in the forest, and I trust Treebeard will look after them well. We do have a problem in that we cannot revert back to our wolf selves and therefore we are completely severed from the rest of the pack. If we were mere recruits, that would not be too problematic, but we are Queen's core of the pack. We cannot allow ourselves to lose all contact with her."

Pippin was nodding seriously. "What do you propose we do?"

"We need to inform Queen of the existence of Fangorn's water, and what it can do. Protector, you shall bring some to her. You will travel in your present form. There is no choice."

"And you? What about you?"

"I will stay here and talk a bit more with Treebeard. Perhaps I will learn something more about this water's properties, and about ourselves."

By then, Merry and Sam had been deposited on the forest ground by Treebeard. Merry approached Councillor and said: "Good. Perhaps you can even help me convince Treebeard to go to war against Saruman."

Then, he turned to Pippin and the two hobbits hugged for a moment. Merry then pulled away and said: "It's so good to see your hobbit face again! This changes everything, doesn't it? Allie will be exalted when she learns of this. Go and bring her the good news!"

Sam took out his water skin. "You can use this to carry the water."

Merry took out his as well and threw it at Pippin. "Take mine as well. Carry as much as you can."

Pippin smiled excitedly. "You can count on it, cousin! Sam, come and help me fill these. The creek is not far."

The two hobbits reached it shortly and then knelt by the water to fill up their water skins. When they were done, Sam undid his Elvish cape and handed it to Pippin. "You shouldn't go walking out of the forest with just a leaf around your waist, Mr. Pippin."

Pippin laughed. "It makes me look like a real savage, doesn't it? At least I have something on, unlike Councillor."

Sam didn't laugh, only stared at him head-on. "Do you even know where you are headed?"

"Last time we communicated, Allie said they were heading towards the Black Gate. I will also go in that direction. If I manage to convert back to a wolf on the way there, I will be able to sense her more accurately."

"But if you don't?" Sam insisted.

Pippin shrugged. "Then I will continue on as a hobbit." He draped Sam's cape around his shoulders.

"How will you defend yourself without being in your wolf form? You have no weapon, and there are Orcs out there, and Wargs, and who knows what else."

Pippin's green eyes sparkled intently. "I am not scared of the danger. I will be able to steal a sword somewhere along the way, or I will make a weapon out of rocks and sticks. I will survive, like I have always done."

Sam bit his lip and then unsheathed the short sword that Aragorn had given him that day on Weathertop, a lifetime ago it seemed.

"It will be easier if you have this," the gardener said.

Pippin eyed it shortly. "That is yours, Sam. You should keep it. You should be safe here in the forest, but it's always better to be guarded."

"But I'm not staying here. I'm coming with you."

"Sam..." Pippin sighed.

"I won't be a hindrance, I swear!" Sam cried out stubbornly. "I won't let those filthy Orcs kidnap me again, you better believe that. I want to be of help to you, and to Allie, and to Mr. Frodo. There must be something I can do. Let me come along!"

Pippin studied his stubborn face and stubborn eyes.

"Fine," he conceded. "Us wolves are free creatures. We come and go as we wish, so I'm in no position to tell you where you should or should not go. But the road is dangerous, and if you follow me, I can't vouch I can always keep you safe."

"I understand the risks," Sam stated.

Pippin smiled. "I can never say no to a companion on the road. Come on then, we better get going now."

Sam grinned happily. "Thank you, Mr. Pippin! Here, I will carry the water!"

Pippin started walking. "We will go say goodbye to the others first. And one last thing Sam," he turned around and his green eyes sparkled seriously. "I'm younger than you, aren't I? So then why are you calling me mister like I'm some old man? Call me Pippin!"

"Yes, Pippin," Sam mumbled in embarrassment. "I shall do that from now on."

Pippin laughed. "Good."

* * *

After two weeks of riding on Hunter's back, Frodo's butt and thighs were bruised and sore, and he could barely walk when he got off Hunter's back for the scarce breaks that Allie allowed them to have.

Allie and him were not speaking much, for in this place, the tiniest sounds carried for miles. The stinky marshes were on their left as they marched southeast towards Mordor. In spite of their proximity to enemy territory, there wasn't a single Orc in sight. The wind blew brown dust off the barren lands as the giant grey wolf pawed silently and tirelessly forward.

Frodo found himself holding up the Ring on the palm of his hand more and more often, for its growing weight chafed at the back of his neck.

"This is strange, so very strange," Allie was muttering after she came back from one of her scouting expeditions.

"What is?" Frodo asked wearily, stretching his legs as he took support from a boulder.

"The absence of enemies," she said. "The land before the Black Gate should be better guarded, especially in these times of war, but there is no one."

Once, they had seen a troop of Orcs marching towards the Black Gate from afar, and they had hidden near the marshes, flattened against the acrid ground until the enemy had passed them by. But that was towards the beginning of their ride, and they hadn't seen a single soul ever since.

Most of Allie's few silent conversations were with Hunter, or with Informant and Boromir, who were catching up to them. Frodo still couldn't believe that Allie had turned Boromir into a wolf. He didn't know whether he liked the idea or not. One night, he had dreamed about a wolf with Boromir's face pounding on him, trying to snatch the Ring away from him. When he told Allie of the dream, she waved it off as being just a dream.

"Wolves feel no attraction to the Ring," she reassured him. "Boromir will not hurt you now."

Presently, Allie was standing on the boulder, frowning up at the dark clouds rolling by on the sky. She knew they were no thunder clouds, for it hadn't rained at all ever since they set out from the Emyn Muil.

"Well, I for one am happy to see the road deserted," Frodo started, "no matter what reason there is for the lack of enemies, it can only be a good thing for us."

Hunter's blue eye was also riveted to the clouds, and a low snarling sound sometimes escaped his throat.

Frodo also looked up, but couldn't detect anything unusual or menacing from above. Feeling frustrated in spite of himself by the silence of the other two, he pursued morosely: "I don't understand you these days. You are unhappy when you see enemies, and you are unhappy when there are no enemies. But if you think about it, who in their right minds would walk around in these wastelands? The stench from the marshes would make a pig drop dead, and this silence is really setting my nerves on fire. The Black Gate shouldn't be much further. We have been riding Hunter nonstop for weeks! At least that means Gollum will never catch up to us..."

He let the rest of his sentence trail off and Allie sighed. She was tired of talking about Gollum. Ever since the Emyn Muil, Frodo and her had had two more talks about the wretched creature, and none of them had ended in agreement. Sometimes she still looked around for signs of him sneaking after them, but she had not spotted him.

Right now, she was hungry and did not wish to get into an argument with Frodo once more concerning that topic. "Let us be quiet," was all she said, "the smallest sound carries for miles in these lands, and besides... something doesn't feel right..."

Frodo clasped at the Ring, feeling frustrated. "What doesn't feel right?" he let out in a voice stronger than he intended.

Allie twirled towards him in alarm. "Less loud, Frodo! Do you want to get us all killed?"

"Killed?" he almost shouted. "Killed by what? How about you stop wasting time and we get back on Hunter and continue our ride?"

Allie was surprised at his tone. "What has gotten into you?"

Frodo stood up. "I am tired of the looks you have been giving me since we freed Gollum."

At this, she rolled her eyes in utmost annoyance. Why wouldn't Frodo let it go? He was such a stubborn rascal sometimes. "I'm not giving you looks because we freed him. What's done is done. I'm giving you looks because you keep bringing it up!"

Frodo glared. "Don't lie to me, Allie. That decision is hanging between us like a knife, and I see it every time you look at me. I don't understand why you are so scared of him. Gollum is only a small threat to you and Hunter. You saw how easily your wolf apprehended him back in the Emyn Muil. You have become too used to the act of killing as a solution to all your problems!"

Allie's eyes narrowed. "Are you calling me a killer?"

Suddenly, he raised a crest-fallen face towards her. "No Allie, I didn't mean it like that. It's just... I know it is how wolves usually do things, but sometimes there are other ways, better ways."

She cast her glance down and sighed. "You don't need to take the words back. It's true that I have ended more lives than I can count, some of them human lives. But showing no mercy has been the only way for me to survive until now. I'm not like you, Frodo. I can't give my trust easily because I have seen the ugly side of this world. The side where those you care about die in front of you and where betrayal comes sneaking in like a knife in the dark unless you spot it and kill it before it can kill you!"

His eyes full of contrition did not make her feel better.

"But you trust me, don't you?" he asked her.

Her gaze was earnest. "I trust you as a person. But you make your decisions with a different view of the world than mine. A view that I'm not sure I still believe in."

She felt the weight of his hand on top of her head and looked up into his soft blue eyes. "Then believe in _me_, Allie. I haven't been through the hardships you've been through, but I do believe there is good in this world still. And it can be brought out of everyone."

She wanted to believe in his words with all her heart, but she had seen too much and knew what were ideals and what was reality. "Even Sauron?" she whispered. "Can you bring good out of Sauron?"

Frodo removed his hand from her hair and looked away with a frown.

She squeezed his hand gently. "I wish you could, Frodo. Then this whole war could end. But sometimes it's not that simple. Let us just get going now."

Frodo heaved a sigh and didn't say anymore. He mounted onto the grey wolf's back, looking afflicted. Slowly, she climbed behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist as Hunter began to walk.

The two hobbits did not exchange another word for the rest of the day. When night came, they rode on for a bit more before Allie gave sign to Hunter to stop. There were some dead bushes on their left where they could sleep for the night.

Frodo took his things and went to lie down silently on the ground, trying to ignore the dead branches poking at his back and ribs. He had been thinking about what Allie had said, and now there was a bitter taste in his mouth. He felt like a sheltered child who truly didn't know much about the world.

As the hours chimed by, dark whispers started in his head and the Ring was heavy again. The dark whispers said she had said those words to make him feel small and naive. They said she was trying to make him feel unfit to be the Ring-bearer.

He shook his head as though to get rid of cobwebs and twisted a little on his side to see if Allie was sleeping.

She wasn't. She was sitting beside the huge frame of Hunter. The air was still, and her wild hair fell on her shoulders in heavy ringlets. Sensing his gaze on her, she cast her wolf eyes on him. He shuddered at the way they shimmered in the night, the same way that Hunter's eye was doing when the grey wolf set his gaze on him as well.

_They must be talking about me_.

That single thought angered him. The dark whispers said that it really wasn't fair that he couldn't even hear what they were saying. Perhaps they were agreeing upon how weak he was. He wasn't a good fighter, nor a good scout, for his sense of direction was terrible. He was naive enough to have let Gollum go free. Yes, he knew all that. Why did Allie and Hunter feel the need to talk about it some more? He had never felt more alone since the Emyn Muil.

He turned his gaze on the Ring. "I have only got you now, it seems. At least you are always constant."

He let the golden shimmer of the Ring invade his field of vision as he slowly caressed its smooth edges.

"Frodo!" Allie's sudden voice snapped him back to reality, and he found her standing by his lying shape. "I can sense the presence of the Ring!" Her eyes fell on the Ring in question clasped in his hand. He did not like the way her eyes widened. "Frodo... what are you doing with it?"

Her tone seemed patronizing to his ears. "It is my business," he found himself retorting. "I am the Ring-bearer. I will look at the Ring if I want to. Please leave me be."

"What?" she exclaimed.

She crouched down to be more at his level and looked at him in the eyes. "Frodo, what is wrong?"

"What were you talking about with Hunter?"

She seemed surprised for a second. "I was having a brief meeting with my wolves. I wanted to ask for news of Pippin and Councillor."

She did not want to worry him unnecessarily by telling him that she could not reach them anymore. None of the wolves could.

Frodo's eyes, however, were narrowed. She suddenly got the certitude that he did not believe her. "What did you think we were talking about, Frodo?"

He looked away. "I don't know. I can't hear what you are saying. You could be talking about the Quest and making your own decisions for all I know."

She frowned. "I will always consult with you for any important decisions. We decide things together!"

Frodo let out a sigh and stood up. "I am beginning to wonder now. After all, in your eyes I must seem like someone who knows nothing of the world. And you are used to making decisions all by yourself. It was like that when we were young, and it has not changed. Perhaps you are used to blind obedience from your pack of wolves. But I am not a wolf and you are not my Queen! I suggest you remember this!"

"_Insolent little fool_," Hunter growled from beside her, bearing his harsh eye onto Frodo, "_I won't let him insult you so!"_

Allie grabbed his fur partly to restrain him and partly to support herself. His cutting words had been like a slap in the face. Confusion and hurt swirled in her chest.

"Is that how you truly feel about me?" she inquired with clenched teeth.

At her words, he suddenly felt dismay at his own words. He wanted to say something, anything, but he had taken too long.

"You are right," she let out hollowly. "You are the Ring-bearer, not me, not anyone else. And you are not my wolf. So what am I to you, Frodo? All those nice things you've told me, all those promises, were any of them real?"

There was apprehension in her eyes and her hand was twirling the hilt of her sword, betraying how shaken she was. Frodo's chest filled with remorse. He meant to go to her and hug her and erase that look on her face with words of apology, but the Ring suddenly weighed him down as though it had become a boulder.

A shriek came from the direction of the marshes. The Ring burned hot against his skin, and then he heard a snarl and a tear behind him where he knew Allie and Hunter were standing. When he looked in their direction, he saw that Allie had transformed into a wolf.

And then the shadow was upon them.

It was a large beast as dark as night, and darker was the figure that sat on its back. From the depths of the hood of the rider, a shrill shriek came again, invading the air like a sonar that threw icy needles of fear into Frodo's heart.

His body froze as the Ring called to him to put it on his finger. _And then the beast will see me in the night_, he thought in despair.

Just as the second shriek was shaking his bones, a heavy weight fell on him and plastered him to the ground. Teeth closed around his collar and carried him up in the air for a few meters before dropping him beside a boulder surrounded by dead bushes. He looked around wildly and saw the golden wolf pushing him and making him roll all the way inside the dead bushes, before settling beside him with her flank pressed to his body.

_It's useless_, Frodo thought in alarm. _Her golden fur will be spotted from afar!_

But then, another shape covered them both as Hunter loomed above them, crouched on all fours with his belly against Allie. There he held as still as a giant boulder, seemingly not even breathing.

The winged beast circled the air above them for a couple of seconds that seemed like an eternity, before he suddenly took altitude and flew back towards Mordor.

For minutes after that, Frodo and the two wolves stayed in their position, holding so still that they could have turned into rocks themselves. Finally, Hunter slowly detached himself from the other two and raised his head to the grey skies.

"_They are gone,"_ he said.

"_Thank you, Hunter. You just saved us,"_ Allie let out in a shaky sigh.

The wolf bowed his head. "_My life is yours. It has been yours since that day twenty years ago when you led your first raid as our Queen."_

She still remembered the words he had spoken that day. She had told the wolves of her pack to remember who they were as humans, and had given them the choice to follow her into battle. Hunter had been the first to step forward, and the others had followed.

She glanced into Hunter's eye. The blue of his iris seemed less cold than usual. She paddled close to him and rubbed her neck against his. Hunter bent his head licked her fur once.

And then she was shifting and shrinking until she stood beside him in her hobbit form. Frodo got back on his feet and wrapped his cape closer around himself to thwart the last shivers of fear.

"Frodo! Are you all right?" she asked, still trying to regain her breath.

"Yes. Yes. I am fine. And you?"

"More shaken than hurt," she declared as she stood next to him.

He glanced up at the sky in the direction the beast had disappeared into and murmured: "I felt the Ring calling to him."

"I did too. It made me transform again."

Frodo patted at his muddy pants. "Allie..."

Grey eyes settled on him.

"I'm so sorry for what I said. You asked me what you are to me. Well, you are the most important person to me. Always were and always will be," he confessed hoarsely. "I didn't mean to speak like that to you." There was so much more he wanted to say, but his head was still pounding and for some reason he couldn't think.

Allie's face softened and she touched his arm reassuringly. "I know. We have both been on edge since the Emyn Muil. It is the silence in the here, the wretched smell from the Marshes and that winged wight that just flew over us. But the Black Gate is not far now. Come, let's get this hike over with."

And the Ring as well, Frodo thought but didn't say. He climbed on the grey wolf after her and they continued their route in silence.

The next morning, they finally reached the giant boulders standing guard in front of the Black Gate. The gate itself was an enormous piece of black iron work that spanned several hundreds of meters in both height and length. Two watch towers stood like sentinels on each side of it, and small Orc figures could be seen patrolling the length of the gate on a parapet built at the very top.

Allie climbed on top of the boulders and studied the barren stretch of land between herself and the Gate. It didn't take her long to realize that they would never pass by unseen.

Frodo had come to the same realization, but he didn't voice it out loud. He had kept a taciturn silence ever since the episode with the winged wight.

"_You will not pass the Gate alive_," Hunter stated with his head between his paws.

"_I know, but still I must try_," Allie replied in sad determination.

Hunter considered her._ "Then I shall try with you,"_ he declared simply.

Allie was moved by his words. She seized his huge head in her hands and brought him close. "Thank you, Hunter."

The grey wolf closed his eye and rested his head against her chest.

"_There are two ways to go about this_," he spoke up thoughtfully. "_I could create some kind of diversion while the Ring-bearer and yourself try to sneak through."_

"_It's too dangerous_," Allie retorted right away. "_You will not be enough to attract the attention of the whole garrison. What is the second option?"_

"_The second option would be to search for another way into Mordor."_

Allie paused at this. "_Mordor is surrounded by mountainous ground. There might be a passage that leads inside, but we don't know where it might be. Searching would take too long, and we don't have that much time."_

Hunter licked his muzzle. "_Then only the first option remains to us. If you call your pack to you, my Queen, it will be a large enough diversion."_

Allie saw wisdom in Hunter's words, but if she did that, how many of her wolves would have to die? This was not their battle. It was not hers either, until she had made it hers. She had no right to ask that kind of sacrifice from the rest of her pack, however. Hunter seemed to guess at her thoughts.

"_You are being too soft_," he chastised her. "_Those wolves are under your orders and you can do with them as you see fit. Dying for you in battle would be an honor for all of them."_

"_This will be no battle_," she replied sadly, "_it will be a massacre. They will be the decoys while Frodo and I pass through the Gate. And even if we manage to do just that at the risk of half my pack, what then? Once we are inside Mordor, we are as good as trapped."_

"_Still, it is the only choice you have."_

Allie did not think that this was the only choice. She was in sore need of Councillor's advice, but the old wolf had been unreachable for the past couple of days. She could not sense him at all, and the same applied to Pippin. She had discussed the issue with Informant and Hunter, but neither of them knew what was going on. Last she knew of Councillor and Pippin, they were going into Fangorn Forest. Worry gnawed at her every time she tried to reach them without success, but she forbade herself to dwell on it. She had sent some more wolves into Fangorn to search for them, and that was all she could do for now.

"_In any case, we will wait here and observe for a little bit more_," she told Hunter.

Allie looked around for Frodo and found him sitting against a boulder not far away. He looked lost in thoughts and startled a bit when Allie sat down next to him.

For long moments, neither of them spoke.

"Have you found a way in?" Frodo finally asked.

She shook her head.

Frodo sighed. "I wish Gandalf were still alive. He would have known what to do. All we can do now is wait."

Allie remained pensive for a moment, debating, but then she spoke up: "If there really is no other way, I can ask my wolves to create a diversion as we sneak through, but I hope it will not come to that."

Frodo turned towards her and saw the grim look on her face. He settled down again. "That could work," he reflected. "We are hard pressed on time, Allie. Perhaps we should attempt it."

Allie forced herself to remain calm. "Let us observe for a moment more. To be honest, I don't want my wolves to become martyrs. They are my family."

Frodo marked a pause, but the Ring was heavy around his neck, and the same headache was still pounding at the back of his eyes. The fact that Allie called the wolves family stirred up a feeling of unease, perhaps even jealousy. "They would not be martyrs. Destroying the Ring and Sauron will save thousands of other innocent people. Their deaths would be meaningful!"

Allie studied him intensely and saw him look away at her gaze. The thought suddenly struck her that he had been sounding like a stranger. Before, even when they fought, it was never like this. Frodo was never like this, and would never speak lightly of sacrifice. She saw the way he rubbed at his temples tiredly, and the way he was slightly bent forward as though there was a weight around his neck.

The sudden wave of realization was like a punch to the stomach. She could not believe how blind she had been all this time. She had forgotten how much of a burden the Ring could be, and there she was, fighting with him instead of helping him. She could no longer remember why she had been so intent on scanning for the invisible dangers around them instead of being careful on the one that was hanging from Frodo's own neck.

"How is the Ring?" she asked him honestly. "Is it heavy?"

He studied her for a while with guarded eyes.

"It has been getting heavier," he admitted, but said no more.

The look in his eyes was making her nervous; she did not remember the last time she had attempted to find her words with him. She had always been able to tell him exactly what was on her mind without thinking much about it, but right now the air seemed different between them.

"I'm sorry, Frodo," she finally said. "It must have been such a burden for you and I have been arguing with you over such trivial things. I really am sorry."

"Don't worry. It is nothing I cannot handle," he simply replied.

She swallowed and smiled tentatively. "Please, no more fighting. The more we fight, the stronger the Ring's power becomes."

Frodo let out a sigh at this. "Yes," he agreed.

Allie reached out for his hand and squeezed it gently and he squeezed hers back, but that feeling of distance between them remained.

She tried to breach it somewhat by placing her other hand on top of his. "Will you let me know if it becomes too much of a burden? I know I cannot carry it for you, as much as I want to, but I will do whatever else is in my power to do. But please, just talk to me. I know that sometimes I am too immersed in my wolf matters. It is a hard habit to break when I constantly hear the voices of my pack inside my head. So you have to talk to me if something is troubling you, because yours is a mind that I cannot read."

At her uncertain and yet pleading tone, he finally let down his guard a little and gave her a gentle and familiar pat on the head that made her smile in relief. "Don't look so concerned, Allie. I will."

With their hands still clasped together, they resumed their watch on the ever closed Black Gate from behind their boulder. In spite of his assurance that he was fine, she couldn't help noticing the way he leaned wearily against the rock. She tugged at his hand and he turned to look at her.

"You look tired, Frodo. Will it help if you take the Ring off for a few minutes so that you can rest? Will that be too dangerous?"

She knew the Ring had a mind of its own. It might decide to slip into a crack in the boulders and roll down the cliff. The sneaky little bastard.

However, Frodo tensed up unexpectedly at her words. Before Allie knew what was happening, he had snatched his hand out of hers. The motion made her lose her balance and start falling back, and out of reflex she reached out for Frodo's shoulder for balance.

"Don't touch it!" he cried as he pushed her hand away. The shove made her tumble and land on her elbow. She grimaced at the pain of ruptured skin.

Frodo was staring down at her with a haunted look that she had never seen on his face. He had closed one hand around the Ring, hiding it from view.

She propped herself up into a sitting position. "I was not going to!"

His blue eyes were burning when he regarded her. "You want me to take off the Ring!" There was accusation in his voice.

"Yes, but-" she started, still bewildered by his rapid change in tone.

"_There is an army marching towards the Gate,"_ Hunter's voice seemed to reach her from far away.

Frodo cradled the Ring protectively. "Why?" And then: "Do you want to take it for yourself?"

Allie watched him back away from her until he was at the edge of the cliff. Worry and consternation battled it out inside of her. Suddenly she recognized that glint in his eyes; it was the same that had slowly started to consumme Boromir before he had lost his mind. With a lurch of fear, she realized the Ring's hold on him was already this strong. "Frodo, open your eyes! I do not want the Ring! I can't even bear to be near it, or have you forgotten that too?"

Frodo's eyes widened slowly at her words and at the sight of her on the ground. She saw the exact moment in which the full sense of her words reached him and the veil that the Ring was casting over his eyes finally started to slip away. When he took conscience of what he had done, his cheeks flared up in shame and horror at the sight of her bloodied elbow. Affliction and despair suddenly flooded his traits as he clasped both hands to his head. "Allie," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. What have I done? What is happening to me?"

She stood back up on her feet and with her insides twisted in a knot. She wanted to go to him, but she did not want to alarm him further when he was in this state. Instead, she stayed where she was and spoke softly: "Frodo, it was not your doing. It is the Ring's evil at work and it's taking a hold of you. I know it's hard but you have to fight it! It is sowing seeds of doubt within you that makes it hard for you to know who to trust. But even if you begin doubting everything else, just remember that I will never betray you!"

The fire and conviction in her voice made him slowly look at her again. Her grey eyes were clear, with not an ounce of accusation. She pursued earnestly: "Do you remember when I was struggling with becoming a wolf all those years ago? You held out your hand to me then and you told me that together, we could do it. Do you know how much I have held on to those words? We might be different in many ways, you and I. But together, we can do anything! That is the only thing I believe in wholeheartedly. I believe in _us_."

She extending her hand out to him, inviting him to take it, to trust her. At her words and at the sight of her outstretched hand, Frodo suddenly felt an ache so strong that for a second it eclipsed the weight of the Ring around his neck and dispersed the cobwebs in his mind. He didn't know how he could have ever doubted what was in her heart. He could see now that she was thinking of him when she had been upset about Gollum. She had been thinking of him all along.

Of course he trusted her. He would never let the Ring make him think otherwise again. Frodo lifted his hand to reach hers as he made a step forward.

The boulder he stepped on suddenly came loose from under him. He saw Allie's horrified expression for a second, and then his muffled cry was drowned by the sound of rocks slipping down under his feet as he fell on his side and started gliding down the slope towards the Black Gate.

Allie felt all her blood turn to ice as she repressed the urge to scream out his name. She suddenly became aware of the sound of steel boots against sand as she lifted her head and let her eyes sweep over the army stationed outside the Black Gate as it was being pulled open by giant goblins. She remembered, too late, about Hunter's words cautioning her to their approach.

"_Queen! Stand back! You will be spotted!"_ Hunter snarled from behind the boulder.

Allie knew that, but she had no more time. She jumped over the edge of the slope and ran as fast as she could down the rolling sand towards Frodo.

Frodo's fall was slowing down now, but the cloud of dust his fall had created had attracted the attention of the Haradrim army down below.

Allie was almost at his level when, suddenly, a black shape lunged from behind a boulder, zigzagged in front of her like a spider and landed on Frodo on all-fours at the same time as Allie heard Hunter yell: "_It's the creature from the Emyn Muil!"_

She didn't understand how Gollum could have caught up with them so fast without being detected by Hunter. She wrinkled up her nose at the stench spreading from the creature. He smelled like the Dead Marshes.

Frodo barely had time to react before Gollum took a handful of his chains and pulled on them so hard that they left bloody marks on Frodo's neck upon breaking. Gollum discarded the half-moon necklace, throwing the pendant on the sand, and kept the one with the Ring dangling at the end, laughing manically in bliss.

Frodo had now realized what Gollum had done. He let out a grunt of anger and clung to his leg with both hands, shaking him violently and intending to make him fall. However, Gollum was flexible. He scratched and kicked at Frodo as he tried to pull away.

The Haradrim were crying loud orders in their language as they started to climb the slope towards them upon spotting them.

"No!" Gollum was crying. "Lets us go! Lets us go, you dirty hobbit! We needs to take the Precious away from here! Away from _Him_!" And upon seeing the approaching Haradrim, his eyes almost popped out of their sockets as he screamed: "They will catch us! Catch us!"

"Give it back!" Frodo was screaming, deaf to Gollum's words. "That is mine!"

Gollum was now straining to slide the Ring on his finger, but one of his arms was trapped underneath him, which made his objective difficult.

There was a hiss in the air, and then an arrow fell down on the sand beside Gollum, courtesy of the Haradrim down the slope.

A cold veil fell before Allie's eyes as she ran. Shutting down her worries and fears, she focused on the tasks she had to accomplish. Her eyes gauged Gollum and Frodo, and the approaching Haradrim, and she made her decision. She ran past Frodo and Gollum, and unsheathed her sword in time to deflect an arrow that was aiming for her eye.

"_Hunter! Don't let the creature put on the Ring! Kill him!"_ she commanded as she charged alone towards the Haradrim.

Her enemies paused a moment in fear at the approaching Halfling with silver blade and silver eyes, but then their chieftain bellowed an order, and the closest soldiers charged at her silently with shield and spear raised.

Allie's sword dashed right and left, slashed up and down, but her blows were blocked by their shields. At the same time, three Southrons tried to fight her all at once, thrusting their spears to try and pin her to her death. She danced through their attacks. When two Haradrim charged at her at the same time, she threw herself to the ground at the last second, letting her enemies impale each other above her. A steel boot crashed into her back as the third Haradrim towered over her. Only his eyes were visible from above the bloody scarf around his face.

Those eyes widened in panic when the Halfling under his boot snarled in wroth and morphed into a giant wolf. Before he had time to scream, his throat was slashed open and fresh blood splattered on the ground.

Behind her, Gollum managed to kick Frodo in the stomach, sending him gasping for breath. Then, Gollum finally scurried to his feet, free of Frodo's hands. He had half a second to rejoice before Hunter pinned him to the ground. Without giving him enough time to draw a breath, the wolf closed his teeth around Gollum's right arm and ripped it open to the bone. Another bite, and the arm fell down on the rocky slope, severed at the elbow. Gollum let out a scream so shrill and guttural that it stopped some of the Haradrim in their advance.

Hunter seized the severed arm with the hand still clutching the Ring and threw it back. The arm landed in front of Frodo's dusty face.

"Please! Don't kill us!" Gollum begged shrilly.

One blue eye and one scarred eye stared down at him, both expressionless. As the grey wolf was about to lurch down and finish Gollum, an arrow nestled in his flank, followed by another. He let out an angry howl and turned towards the Haradrim archers who had loosened the arrows. Gollum took advantage of the wolf's second of inattention to twist free of his paws like a snake. He quickly scrambled behind a series of boulders, leaving a trail of black blood behind him.

Hunter meant to chase after him, but then he caught sight of Allie. His Queen was battling against the entire garrison of Haradrim soldiers. They circled around her and cut her with their spears and their scimitars, leaving trails of red in her golden fur. She killed as many as she could with teeth and claws, twirling around so violently that the force of the impact sent some of the Men flying. However, more still came. From the Black Gate now also poured out an army of Orcs, rushing to support the Haradrim.

"_Queen!" _he screamed urgently_._

"_Is Gollum dead?" _her voice resounded within him, breathless with the fury of her attacks_._

"_No, but..."_

"_Kill him!"_

"_But you..."_

"_Do not worry about me! Go after Gollum!"_

Hunter's huge frame was trembling. It was a direct order from his Queen, and the Blood did not allow him to disobey her. He knew what would happen if he did; his body would weaken and die. But he could not leave her to fight by herself. She was more than just his leader. She was his reason to be alive and to fight.

He loved her.

"_I'm sorry, Queen, but I cannot obey that order. I have to stay by your side!"_

And he charged in her direction. Allie twirled, and her silver eyes crossed his blue eye for a second.

"_Hunter..."_

The grey wolf charged into the circle of Haradrim like a gust of wind through a castle of cards. Allie sauntered back, suddenly having a respite from the fight. She looked on with shiny eyes as the grey wolf fought in front of her, using his body to shield her. Resolve flowed inside of her then; she would not allow him to die for her. She sauntered forward and tore down at her enemies once more.

From the corner of her eye, she suddenly saw two Haradrim climbing towards Frodo. One of them was bleeding from the head, but still he walked forward silently.

Frodo saw them too and quickly pried open the fingers from Gollum's severed arm. He took the Ring and slid it in his pocket, before standing up and unsheathing Sting.

Allie tried to clear a path to him, but the circle of enemies had thickened around her once more.

_Protect him as you would protect me._

Hunter snapped his head up as Allie's voice suddenly rang in his ears, clear as bells. He remembered that order she had given to all her wolves near the border of the Lothlorien. Frodo's life had equal value to hers to the wolves.

Hunter's body moved by itself, rushing to Frodo's rescue.

Just when one of Haradrim was lifting up his spear, Hunter fell on them like an angry storm. Soon the two Men were sprawled on the ground as their lives leaked out of their open wounds at the same time as their blood.

Frodo was breathing raggedly, his eyes sweeping over the sights of battle in front of him.

"Allie!" he screamed with all his might when he caught sight of the golden wolf being slowly pushed toward the Black Gate by the Haradrim soldiers.

Hunter bounced back towards her like a grey shadow, all teeth and flying saliva. Frodo ran after him, but could not hope to match his giant strides.

His heart seemed to beat harder with the force of his desperation, and in spite of the clouds of dust arising under his feet as he ran, he seemed to see clearer than he had in days.

_How could I have let this happen? How could I have let the Ring affect me so much already?  
_

Ahead of him, Hunter had charged into the circle of Men around Allie. The force of his impact was enough to kill two Men and injure a third. Spears were thrust at his body, but he seemed not to feel a thing as he tore apart his enemies.

The chieftain of the Haradrim abandoned his banner and took up an axe. He turned around and barked some orders to the group of Orcs that had joined him. The Orcs smiled an ugly smile and plunged into battle with swords in hand.

Frodo saw a Haradrim in front of him and didn't hesitate to cut his guts out with Sting. He ducked and slayed, ducked and slayed, trying to make it closer to the golden wolf with each kill.

And then the Orcs fell around him, blocking his path.

Further away, Allie looked in Frodo's direction from the space between two approaching Men. One of her eyes was blinded by a trail of blood flowing into it, but through the red veil she saw Frodo being overwhelmed by the Orcs. He had felled two with Sting, but more kept closing in on him. With a wild howl, she jumped in his direction, tearing everything in her path. As Frodo exchanged blows with one Orc, another one sneaked up behind him. Allie intercepted the blow at the last second as the sword slashed her rear thigh open.

With a grunt of pain, she lifted her now useless leg and recoiled on herself. The Orc roared, showing his rotten teeth, and then he plunged towards her. Allie let him approach and then ducked left at the last second while biting off his face.

Then, she fell back on her hind legs as she panted hoarsely. Her vision was swarming with dark spots.

Frodo reached her side and grabbed her head in a disconsolate grip. "Allie, I'm so sorry!"

Her silver eyes found his aching blue ones, and she wanted to convey to him that it was not his faultand that he was forgiven, of course he was, but she couldn't breath properly even though she was panting as fast as she could.

From behind Frodo, she could see more Orcs and Haradrim soldiers approaching. So many. Breathing was painful. Blood flowed down her jaws, mixed in with saliva. Her vision was starting to blur as well. She called out to the rest of her pack, but the closest wolves were too far. They would never make it in time.

"_Queen!"_ They were howling as they ran towards her, pawing through sandy ground.

"_Don't you dare die, Queen!"_ Informant snarled, but his voice was faint, as though coming from miles away.

Frodo seized her head and looked into her wolf eyes. "Allie, we will not die here! We will not! We will get through this together. I swear to you!"

Then, he turned his back to her and charged towards the coming Orcs.

She lunged feebly after him.

_There is too many of them! _she wanted to say.

But he couldn't hear her. No one could. Blood was pooling around her, she realized daintily. She didn't know she had so much of it. Through the red veil falling in front of her eyes, she saw the Southron chieftain planting his axe in Hunter's head. Hunter collapsed on the side like a giant mountain.

Was she going to die? And she didn't even get to speak to Pippin and Councillor one last time. Where could they be? Were they dead as well?

And Frodo...

She searched for him, and thought she spotted his cape amidst the Haradrim.

At that moment, a dark shadow fell over them all and cold fingers seized her heart. A winged wight landed beside them as Orcs and Haradrim alike scattered away from the beast and the dark rider on its back.

The hooded figure took in the sights of battle and spoke in a deep hiss: "Bring in the Halfling and the Shapeshifter, per orders of the Great Eye."

And then he took flight again, whirling higher and higher into the sky until he disappeared among the black clouds. The golden wolf followed his ascension and felt her consciousness rising along with the dark beast, until dark clouds invaded her vision.

_No_, her mind screamed, _I can't lose consciousness_! _I have to..._


	42. Captives

**Captives**

Frodo shivered at the gale of cold wind blowing through the bars of his prison. He brought his cape closer around himself and stared outside at the burned land of Mordor beyond the Black Gate. His cage was small, made of black wood, and carried by four Orcs. The hobbit looked behind him at the trail of Orcs and Haradrim following with their torches. The Black Gate was now only a small speck of darkness in the distance. Ahead of him, the dirt road wound through trenches and boulders dimly illuminated by the red fires of Mount Doom and the glower of the Eye.

The Eye was often shining upon their company, surveying their advance. Its light would especially linger on the larger cage carried by eight Orcs a few paces ahead of him. In that cage, the golden wolf lied unconscious in a pool of dried blood. One of her legs and her tail were dangling outside the bars, and from time to time an Orc passing by would poke at them tauntingly with his sword point; but the wolf's eyes remained close.

Frodo's hands tightened around the bars at the sight of her. Not for the first time, he pressed his face to the cage and shouted: "Please! She is injured! You need to treat her wounds or else she will die!"

As usual, the only response he got was a slash of whip on his fingers. He grimaced and recoiled to the back end of his cage with the bitter taste of powerlessness swirling at the back of his throat. His hand patted his pocket containing the Ring, which seemed heavier than it used to be. At least his enemies had not yet realized he was the Ring-bearer. If they knew, he would have been killed long ago and the Ring taken.

They were getting closer and closer to the dark tower of Sauron, Barad-Dur. It was a messy yet imposing piece of work: wall upon wall, battlement upon battlement, a black tower of adamant. At its top, two spikes held the immense ball of fire with its cat-like pupil.

On the black skies, winged shadows circled the tower and the Eye. Even the most vicious Orcs would fall silent and hasten the pace whenever one of the beasts' shadows was upon them.

Frodo stared at the tower helplessly. How did they end up here? He wanted to rewind time, to go back to when he and Allie were walking amidst the wilderness and their most pressing worry would be what to have for dinner that evening; or even better, to when they still marched with the Fellowship: Gandalf preaching counsel, Aragorn walking at the back, silent but vigilant; Boromir joking with Pippin; Legolas bouncing lightly from rock to rock, mocking Gimli; Merry and Sam singing; and Allie... Allie smiling and holding his hand. At that time, he thought of this as the best adventure of his life. But now it had become his worst nightmare.

He must have dozed off in his cage, for he dreamed. Allie and he were back in the Shire, back to that day years and years ago when they had gotten attacked by the wolf with flame-coloured fur. It was raining that day; the water was cool on his head and cheeks. Allie was advancing towards the bushes on the other side of the clearing, for she had heard a sound.

"Don't go," Frodo heard himself say.

Allie didn't hear him, and continued her prowl, holding Frodo's jacket over her head and shoulders. Frodo stood up in a panic, and ran up to her as fast as he could. The bushes on the other side rustled, as though something was lurking behind. Frodo ran even faster, his feet splashing on the wet grass, but he couldn't seem to close that distance between himself and her. He wanted to cry out, but found that he had no voice.

The bushes on the opposite side trembled with a dark presence when Allie crouched down in front of them to part their leaves. Running faster than ever, slipping in the rain, Frodo finally caught up with her. He reached out a hand and grabbed her by the shoulder, whirling her around. His jacket fell to the grass from her shoulders, and she blinked rainwater out of her eyes.

"Frodo?"

"Don't look!" he managed to blurt out from amidst his wild panting.

The leaves behind Allie parted, and the red wolf burst out silently to land behind Allie as it looked straight at Frodo through eyes black as coal. Frodo's eyes widened and his body froze in fear. The wolf was even bigger in his dream than in his memories; she towered over them, a shadow with bright eyes and shiny teeth.

Allie started turning around, but Frodo pulled her close and pressed her face against his chest. "Frodo?" she asked again, her voice muffled by his wet shirt.

"Don't look," he whispered again.

He stared at the wolf over her shoulder, and willed it to go away. "Nothing good will come out of it! She is a lass. Just a lass. If you take her, you will die. Leave her here with me; leave her and go. May our paths never cross again."

The giant wolf howled, and Frodo closed his eyes and held Allie tighter. When he opened them, they were alone in the clearing. The wolf was gone. Relief washed over him, making him tremble. Allie peered up at his face with concern, and slowly cupped his cheek in her palm.

"Why?" she asked.

"I have seen the future," he found himself saying. "But now things are different. Now, you will not suffer loneliness nor pain. You can stay here, with me, and we can spend the rest of our lives here, in the Shire!"

She looked away sadly at this. "You are meant to leave the Shire regardless of what happens with me today."

He shook his head fiercely. "No! I will not leave the Shire if you are here! Not when I know what is going to happen…"

She kissed him softly. "You cannot change what has already happened," she told him softly. "But you can change what is to come. I will be waiting for you. Save me then, just like you saved me today."

He pulled back. "I do not understand, Allie."

She stroked his cheek sadly. "You will."

A jerk tore his world upside down, and he opened his eyes slowly. Allie was gone, and the clearing under the rain was gone too. In front of him stood the huge metal doors of Barad-dur.

They had arrived.

Frodo brought a hand to his cheeks and found them moist. The dream came back to him, and for a moment he couldn't breathe.

Sauron's Tower was looming over him now, casting a dark and cold shadow upon them all. His eyes found the dim glimmer of Allie's fur, and he dried his tears furiously with the back of his hand. No matter what he had to do, he would not let them die here.

As the company of Orcs approached the door, a giant Orc blocked their path. One of his arms was made of metal, fused to his flesh at shoulder level. In that hand he held a spear twice his height. "Who goes there?" he asked in a grumble.

"Unit 449," the Orc ahead of the column replied in a pinched voice. "We also picked up those Southrons at the Gate," he signalled to the Haradrim standing at the back.

The Orc's blood-shot eyes swept over the two cages. "We've been expecting you, vermin! What took you so long? The Great Eye awaits."

The tall doors of Barad-Dur cracked open inwards and the tall Orc made way for the garrison to enter. The Orcs carrying Frodo's cage groaned as they marched forward, and the hobbit clung desperately to the bars of his prison. Escape was unfathomable. Behind him, the doors of Barad-Dur shut closed definitively.

The inside of the Dark Tower was shrouded in darkness. Arches and sinewy flights of stairs rose from both sides into the gloominess of upper floors. As they engaged down the main hallway, doors to dark cells appeared on both sides of them. Cries of pain and agony mixed with the cracking of whips, the sounds of steel on steel and, from time to time, the sudden roar of vicious laughter. Bright eyes and dark shapes flashed behind the openings of the cells.

It was in front of one of them that the Orcs stopped. When they opened the door, a stale and rotten smell drifted out from the inside. The Orcs opened the lock of the cage and threw Frodo from one prison into another. The door of his second cell clicked shut behind him as he staggered to his feet.

He pressed his face against the small opening at the top and shouted after his captors, demanding to know what they were going to do with him and where they were taking Allie.

However, his cries went ignored. Footsteps moved away down the hallway, and Frodo heard faintly one of the Orcs ask: "What of the wolf?"

"Bring it to Baadash," a deeper voice answered. "He has been expecting it."

A snicker answered those words, and Frodo felt a shiver travel down his spine. He pressed his forehead against the bars and let out a cry that was half anger and half despair, but his scream only got lost in the cacophony of the other wails that arose within the dark tower of Barad-Dur.

* * *

Allie was brought back to consciousness by a pail of dirty cold water on her head. The water soaked into her fur and made her eyes sting when she finally opened them. The wounds over her body ached, but at least the bleeding had long stopped. She could already feel the Blood working inside of her to mend her wounds. She arched her neck back with difficulty and licked at the long gash on her hind leg. The flesh there was still hanging open, but the pain only served to fuel her ire at her captors.

"You are finally awake, you dirty beast," an Orc spat and swung his whip in her direction. Half the force of the blow was, however, halted by the bars of her cage.

Allie ignored him while continuing to tend to her wounds. All the while, her heart was hammering in her chest as she registered the place where she was being held captive. The cage that had served to carry her was now sitting on the cold tiled floors of a dark round chamber. A huge black column was erected at the center of it, shooting up into the ceiling. The wolf lifted her head and saw that the room was in fact roofless; the black column shot up meters above her head, supporting the structure that held the Great Eye of Sauron.

The flickering of the flames that composed the naked eye cast down its light at irregular intervals onto the round chamber below. Speckles of orange and red danced eerily on the black ceiling and black walls, the spots that they illuminated revealing dark smears that could have been blood.

Allie's nose confirmed to her that those smears were indeed dried blood. She also picked up the scent of ashes and rotten flesh; of Orc sweat and Orc shit.

In front of her, and at the foot of the massive column, sat a throne made of skulls. The eye socket of a giant oliphant skull served as the main seat, while a multitude of smaller skeletons held together by some dark magic made up the hand rests and the back. So far, the throne was empty, but her wolf ears soon picked up the sound of two pairs of footsteps approaching down the hall outside the round chamber; one set was heavy, but the other was light and sneaky.

The whip cracked again, and this time the blow landed on her paw. She retreated further inside the cage and cast her silver eyes on the small Orc manning the whip.

"I know you understand my words, Shapeshifter," the latter cackled darkly, "no use licking your little wounds, because soon you will be bathing in a bigger pool of blood." Dark laughter followed the words.

Allie knew her situation was dire. But even more importantly, where was Frodo? She could not sense him anywhere nearby. What if they had found the Ring? What if Frodo was...

No, she could not think like that. Frodo could take care of himself. He had to, he must. At least until she found a way to escape her prison and find him.

She used the Blood to try and reach her pack. She felt their presence immediately; most of the wolves were very close to the Gate, and Informant and Boromir had already reached the pile of boulders where Frodo, Hunter and her had been hiding before. To her joy, she could sense Hunter as well! So he was still alive!

Before she could call out to them, however, they faded from her senses as though someone had cut off the lights, leaving her in the darkness. Her nostrils flared as she swung her head this way and that, trying to sense them again through the Blood. Nothing.

A snicker reported her attention back to the Orc with the whip, who was now rubbing at his right forefinger. A red shimmer caught her attention. Squinting, she managed to make out the contours of a red ring wrapped around the Orc's finger.

"No communicating with the outside world," his captor articulated slowly.

Allie felt her breath itch. How did this Orc know what she was doing? Was he aware of the Blood bond? She eyed the ring again, suspiciously. She needed to ask him what it was.

She ground her teeth, trying to return to hobbit shape.

But it didn't work.

She tried again, harder, and still her wolf self remained. Somehow this was even scarier than being cut off from her pack. Panic overwhelmed her as she pushed away thoughts of her transformation being final. Fighting against pain till she was standing, she charged again and again against the cage, in direction of the snickering Orc. Every heart beat spread dread and desperation over her limbs as she tried to retract the wolf part of her and failed.

This could not be! It was too sudden! There were still many things that she still had to do as a hobbit, so much still left unsaid...

A howl escaped her throat.

The door to the round chamber cringed as it opened, and in came an Uruk-hai and a Man who, by his appearance, could only be the Mouth of Sauron.

The Uruk appraised the scene silently, then unsheathed a triangularly shaped big-sword and beheaded the Orc with the whip from behind. Blood sprayed out in an arc from the separated head as the latter hit the floor and rolled away into the darkness. The Uruk knelt down beside the fresh corpse and pulled the red ring from the Orc's finger.

Allie thrust forward again, trying to shift back, and this time she encountered the bars of the cage with her hobbit face. The impact left her reeling and dizzy as she fell down on all fours, heaving with deep sobs of relief.

Light footsteps stopped at the edge of her cage. Through her hair and her tears she saw a Man with a helmet that covered his eyes and half of his face. The other half was filled by a giant mouth. When the Man smiled, his lips tore open, revealing teeth as pointy as daggers.

"My master bids thee welcome, Glor Bereth, Queen of the west pack,"

"How..." her breath hitched and she had to start over, "how do you know my..."

"...name?" the Mouth of Sauron supplied helpfully.

A metallic hand reached out from under his cape to grasp the red ring from the Uruk. The Mouth then presented it to her on his open palm. Allie's gaze was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Fine red veins seemed to pulse all around and inside the ring, and the redness of it sometimes undulated ever so slightly, like coagulated blood.

"Is it not pretty?" the Mouth whispered, "Serecor, the Blood Ring."

Allie felt a pulse inside of her, as though her Blood was responding to it. The Ring also seemed to pulse at the same time. "Yes, you can feel it, can you not? They are calling to each other."

Allie's mouth was dry, but she forced herself to speak: "What is that Ring?"

The Mouth smiled his ugly smile. "You must forgive me, but the history behind Serecor is too long for our purpose on this day. Perhaps some other time, if fate shall allow, we will speak further of it. For now..." the Mouth slipped the Blood Ring on his finger, making Allie gasp, "there are some things we must discuss, if you would be so kind."

Allie clenched at her chest, feeling as though something was squeezing her heart. Her head was pulsing, and she found it hard to concentrate or to stand still.

The Mouth took at step back, smiling, always smiling. "My Master is seeking for a long lost treasure of his, you see. Words have reached him of late that this treasure has finally been found, and now resides in the hands of a certain... Halfling."

Allie forced her face to reveal nothing, but deep inside she felt like coming apart. What had they done with Frodo?

"The Ring is travelling South, the news said," the Mouth continued pleasantly, "and the Halfling seemed not to be travelling alone. My Master has dispatched his faithful servants to go find him this treasure, although to no avail, for wolves intercepted the Nine, and the Halfling's trail was lost to them as a consequence."

The Mouth caressed Serecor as he approached the cage once more. "Imagine my Master's pleasant surprise when you and your wolves delivered such a Halfling to his very own Gate."

A pointy tongue darted from behind his teeth and slowly licked the Blood Ring on his finger. Allie shuddered in disgust. The Mouth fell silent and appraised her, as though waiting for a reply. Allie forced herself to think. If Sauron knew Frodo had the Ring, he would not be asking the Mouth to question her. She did not know of Frodo's fate, but she had to believe that Sauron did not have the Ring... yet.

"The Halfling who was with us, what have you done with him?" she demanded.

The Mouth closed his Ring hand in a fist.

Allie watched in horror as her hand rolled into a fist of its own accord, and then punched her in the stomach. She dropped to her knees, panting.

The Mouth relaxed his hand. "Oh, do pardon me. My hand tends to clench in the face of impertinence."

The Uruk suddenly stepped up from behind the Mouth and shot an arm across the bars to seize Allie by the hair. The Uruk smashed her head against the bars and growled: "Where is the One Ring, beast?"

The smile of the Mouth morphed into a thin line of torn lips. "Please do not mistreat our guest, Baadash," he instructed softly.

The Uruk froze for a second, but then let go of Allie's hair with a hateful grunt.

Allie wiped the blood off her burst lip. "The Halfling you seek is not with us," she said after she spat out some blood. "The one with me is simply a decoy."

The Mouth approached the cage pensively. "If your words are true, then that is too bad. My Master will be greatly... disappointed, and with disappointment comes great pain for those who have displeased him, I'm afraid." He smiled. "But, I'm sure he will show mercy if you tell him where the Ring truly is."

Allie remained silent, biting her lip as her heart beat fast. She had to think of something...

This time her own clenched hand hit her in the face so hard that she knocked herself on the ground. One of her teeth felt loose from the blow, and a trickle of blood ran down her chin. Without giving her time to rest, her own hand crept up on her face, fingers etching towards her eyes.

She screamed and tried with all her might to make herself stop, but it was as though her hands belonged to the Mouth. One of her nails dug into her right socket, and she felt the shape of her eyeball rolling underneath the pressure. Fear flared in her chest and she found herself yelling at the top of her lungs: "He set out from Rivendell with a Fellowship!"

Her finger stopped digging. "I marched with them until the fall of Rauros, where we were supposed to part ways," she panted weakly. "When the Uruk-hai attacked us, I left for the eastern shore with one of the Halflings, while the other three remained on the western shore. Any one of them could have the Ring by now! The leader of the Fellowship did not discuss the destination of the real Ring-bearer with us in order to protect the secrecy of the Quest! We are just the decoys who were supposed to march towards the Black Gate and divert the enemy's attention to us in case we were followed. We don't know anything of the real destination of the Ring-bearer. This is the honest truth!"

When she stopped talking, silence hung heavy in the chamber.

Finally, she found her arm muscles relax, and she quickly pushed her hand away from her face and stuck it under her armpit, trembling.

The Mouth reached a metallic hand across the bars and glided a finger down her cheek almost gently.

"Decoys? Such sad fate. And why would one such as yourself be willing to sacrifice it all? You are a Queen, and Queens do not relinquish their lives so easily. Do you mean to tell me you did it in the name of this... "greater good" that you free folk are so fond of?"

The Mouth smiled. "As a loyal subject of the Great Eye, I do know a bit about hierarchy and power. When one such as thee... or the Dark Lord, is in any position of power, there is personal ambition, but there is also a realm to hold together. Gains and losses are evaluated more carefully than if one were alone. And your realm, Glor Bereth, is your pack. By sacrificing yourself, you also bring your pack to ruin. What I am saying is that I do not believe for a second that you are playing this unsavory role for the sake of the greater good. No, you are doing this for personal reasons."

The Mouth inspired deeply. "You are friends with the Halflings since the times of your youth, since before the Blood claimed you for himself."

Allie's eyes widened and she clenched her sides hard enough to leave marks. How could he know this?

"You shared many and more with them, yes, and I can see that your feelings for them run deep."

Allie grabbed the bars of her cage. "Stop it!"

How could he read her emotions like this? Was it that Blood Ring of his?

"Yes indeed," the Mouth pursued, "the depth of your feelings is admirable and commendable, but it is also a prison, is it not? It ties you down. It makes you weak, and you don't like to be weak."

The Mouth prowled around the cage like a predator around his prey. "You like to be in control, but those feelings take that away from you, leaving you exposed and uncertain. Sometimes you wonder if you would not be better off alone. On the pyramid of power, you sit at the very top, but the top is a narrow place, with only space for one."

He stopped in front of her and raised her chin with a finger. His eyes were covered by the helmet, and yet she could feel the power of his gaze.

"You do not yet understand who you are, what you are. There is so much that you have yet to learn, so much potential yet to exploit. Your eyes are full of doubt and hate, but those are good emotions. They will allow you to survive where no one else will. The feelings that tie you to the Halflings, on the other hand, will only bring death and destruction. Have you asked yourself why you feel that way toward them? Because you have spent your entire life with them? Because it is all you have ever known? But think about it; are those feelings real, or simply an illusion of what you wish they were? Do those Halflings... truly understand your nature as a Shapeshifter? Do they truly accept you? Do you perhaps find yourself holding back your wolf self in their company?"

Allie's chest was heaving up and down ferociously. "I don't need to hold back anything. They are my friends! A notion that must be foreign to you, Mouth!"

"Ah! Friends you say?" The Mouth sighed. "You poor thing. They will use you if they can, and will discard you if you become a hindrance to them. They bear so much hatred towards my Master, the Great Eye, and they will do anything to defeat him. If they have to sacrifice you in order to accomplish their goal, do you think they would hesitate? Search deep within yourself, for you already know the answer."

Her grey eyes gleamed. "You do not know anything. If I ever decide to give up my life for them, it would be of my own accord."

The Mouth shook his head. "They will simply manipulate you into thinking that you chose to do so. No, Glor Bereth, do you not see that your pack is everything to you? Your wolves live for you and will die for you. Their loyalty is unquestionable. The bond between you and your pack is greater and stronger than anything you will ever know. Do you see the difference between them and those people you call friends?"

Allie remained silent.

"And yet... you are loath to remain in your true shape, the shape of a wolf. You were panicking earlier because you could not turn back into a Halfling. Is it so terrible for you to stay as a wolf?"

Allie's grey eyes fixed on him and her face was expressionless.

The Mouth smiled. "It is time to accept yourself for who you really are, for you will find strength there, and more power than you can imagine. Those feelings for the Halflings are a burden; once you are free of them, you will be reborn. I can see that you are fondest of the one who we captured." His pointy teeth flashed. "He makes you weak and irrational. And he is envious, so very envious, of your power."

Allie frowned at that. Frodo had mentioned before that he wished he were a wolf like her. She had made him promise not to say that again, and he hadn't, but could he still be feeling this way? She suddenly remembered his angry words to her near the Dead Marshes. Was he feeling left out because he could not hear her and Hunter talk to each other? She suddenly regretted fighting with him. He had said hurtful words to her, but he was carrying a heavy burden, and she had not been able to it, much less to help him. Tears came unbidden to her eyes.

The Mouth's smile widened. "How much have you suffered already because of him? How much did you question yourself because of him? The dilemma between being a Halfling and being a wolf must have been painful. But do you not see? It could have been easy and elating instead, if only your feelings toward that Halfling had not existed. He is and will be your biggest challenge, but if you can overcome him, you will be free."

Allie closed her eyes hard and tried to block out the Mouth's words. It was all a lie, he was trying to break her, to make her betray her friends and Frodo. She told herself not to yield to his sweet words, words that threatened to drown her, because they were true. She could not deny that she had thought like that in the past. He was just voicing all those thoughts aloud, thoughts that she was ashamed of. She clenched her fists and shook off his hold on her. The Mouth could control her limbs to hurt her, could mess with her feelings, but he could not control her mind. If she lost her wits here, it was all over.

She took in a deep breath. "Your words are truthful," she finally said in a thick voice, "I will not deny that my feelings for that Halfling are the reason why I am involved."

_Let him hear the truth in your voice, let him think he has broken you... but lie to him. Lie like you have never lied before._

"But that is irrelevant," she continued, "he does not have the Ring. He followed his friends into the Fellowship, and I followed him. I realize now that I have been foolish, but what is done is done."

She forced her face to look ashamed and dejected, but then her grey eyes shot up to stare at the Mouth.

"Why are you even questioning me when you must have searched him thoroughly already? You know that he does not have the Ring."

At this, Baadash the Uruk let out a laugh. "We searched him thoroughly indeed."

Allie felt her knees weaken at that. Frodo... what had they done to him?

The Mouth rubbed the Blood Ring thoughtfully. "Do you not know who has it?"

"No, I do not."

"Is that so? How disappointing. I am sure you know we were hoping for... better news. Just to be safe, however, we shall search your Halfling one last time. More thoroughly than the first time, as you so kindly put it." He smiled at her. "There is hope for you yet, Glor Bereth."

Allie wanted to scream at him, to beg him to leave Frodo alone, but that would only make matters worse. Instead, she pressed her forehead against the bars and tried once more to communicate with her pack.

The Blood Ring pulsed, and she found herself smashing her head against the bars so hard that blobs of color exploded behind her eyelids, accompanied by blinding pain.

"Tu, tu, tu...," the Mouth shook his head. "None of that, if you please."

He took off the Blood Ring and threw it to Baadash. "Here, keep our guest entertained."

Baadash smiled a feral smile as Allie's knees finally gave out from underneath her as she glided to the floor of her cage.

* * *

Hunter crawled weakly until he reached the shelter of the boulders, out of sight of the Black Gate. His head was pounding from the axe of the Southron and one of his ears was gone, but he was not dead. Not yet. The Blood was healing him already.

A rasp tongue licked his head wound and the pain eased a little. For a crazy second, he thought his Queen was back, but when he opened his eye, he saw black fur in front of him.

"Informant," he groaned.

"How does it feel to come so close to death, I wonder?" Informant replied lightly.

Hunter couldn't see him, but he could picture the black wolf grinning wolfishly like he always did, as though he knew something others did not.

"You come too late," Hunter grunted in response.

Informant sat back and scratched his ear with a hind leg. "It could not be helped. Queen left me with her latest progeny, and as always the role of instructor of wolf lore has befallen me."

Hunter's eye set on the wolf standing behind Informant. He was of considerable size. White fur covered his belly, dark fur his back, and his eyes were molten gold.

Informant turned back to look at him as well. "He shall be in your unit, as the Queen intended. Approach, recruit."

Hunter appraised the new wolf positively; the previous man of Gondor would make a good predator.

"My name is Boromir," the golden-eyed wolf stated, unmoving.

Before Hunter could reply, Informant showed his fangs: "Wolves have no names. How many times do I have to tell you? You will forget it soon enough."

"I shall never forget where I come from. I am Boromir, son of Denethor."

Informant rolled his eyes, but Hunter said: "Very well, Boromir. You shall obey my orders when there is no direct order from the Queen. For now, lick my wounds. I need to heal."

Boromir approached obediently and started licking. Hunter closed his eye.

Informant ignored them and smelled at the air. "Protector is coming." His eyes narrowed. "And a Halfling accompanies him. Why, they are everywhere nowadays like roaches."

"One of them is risking his life carrying the Ring and we are sworn to protect him," Hunter's voice rumbled between them. "I will not allow you to speak ill of them."

Informant grinned. "Retract your fangs, Hunter. You are too serious."

"And you are not serious enough!" Hunter stood up, pushing Boromir aside. "Do you not know our situation? Our Queen has been taken! We cannot reach her anymore through the Blood. What if she is lost to us forever?"

Informant's yellow eye riveted on the bigger wolf. "And whose fault would that be? You were with her, but you let this happen. You failed her, Hunter. You are unfit to be in the core of the pack."

"The enemies overwhelmed us twenty to one," Hunter barked. "If you had reached us earlier, we could have won!"

The two wolves walked in circles, snarling at each other. Boromir interposed himself between them, cutting off their eye contact. "This is no time to be fighting amongst ourselves. We need to devise a plan to save her and the Ringbearer, if it still can be done!"

Hunter and Informant glared at Boromir, and Boromir tensed, ready for one or both of them to tear him to pieces, but they must have seen the sense of his words, for slowly they backed away.

"Put to shame by a newcomer," Pippin's voice cut jovially through them all.

They lifted their heads and saw the auburn wolf approaching with Sam on his back. Sam looked scared to death at the sight of so many angry-looking wolves, but he bravely slid off Pippin's back and looked each of them in the eye. He then proceeded to search for Frodo and Allie, and horror filled his eyes when he noted their absence.

"Where is Mr. Frodo? Where is Allie?"

Pippin shook his wolf head towards Sam, and then pointed his muzzle toward the Black Gate.

Sam collapsed to the ground, feeling icy fingers contract his heart. "No! It can't be!"

Pippin left Sam to recover from the crushing news and went to greet both Hunter and Informant by bumping his head with theirs. Hunter nibbled his ear, and Pippin gave a lick to his missing ear. "At least it is not on the same side as your missing eye," he commented.

In front of Boromir, he stood silent for a long time, his green eyes wide. "So it is true, Allie has turned you into a wolf. It is strange to see you again like this, but I am glad you are still alive, Boromir."

Boromir looked down. "I was the one who requested her to turn me, but now I am not so sure I can handle it. It is like being reborn while keeping the memories of my old life."

Pippin bit his neck amicably. "You are handling this better than most."

Boromir's golden eyes looked pleased at those words.

"So is it true what you've told us?" Informant interrupted without preamble. "The reason why we could not reach you nor Councillor was because you drank the water from Fangorn and transformed back into your old self?"

Pippin went to Sam and nudged the waterskins clinging to his belt. Sam understood and took them off clumsily, nervous under the gaze of the wolves. There were four big waterskins of the Ent water, which Sam disposed on the ground. The wolves formed a circled and peered down at them with wide eyes.

"After drinking of this, I could not turn back to a wolf for seven days," Pippin explained. "However, I do not what will happen the second time I drink of it. I could remain in hobbit form for longer, for shorter, or nothing could happen at all."

"You won't know until you try again," Hunter said carefully.

"I am staying away from this," Informant sniffed the waterskins, "I have no intention of returning to my former self."

Sam, who could not hear any of this conversation, looked around him at the barren lands and started wringing his hands anxiously. "M-mister wolves?" he prompted in a small voice.

Four pairs of shiny eyes fixed on him. Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and continued: "I-I am sorry if I am interrupting an important conversation you are having, but... Mr. Frodo and Allie have been taken by Sauron! Should we not try to save them without wasting time? Who knows what is being done to them in the dungeons! Maybe you are already discussing the issue in wolf language or whatnot. If that is the case, please forget I have spoken."

He fell silent. Pippin gave a nod in his direction, trying to reassure him.

"The Halfling is right," Boromir approved. "It is unsafe to stay in front of our enemies' Gate for much longer." He prowled around the waterskins. "On the way here, I have been thinking of a plan."

Informant snorted. "What is this? A mere recruit playing at being the strategist? Fall silent and await our orders, wolf. You are overstepping your boundaries."

"For the sake of the Blood!" Pippin snarled, "Boromir is not just any recruit. If Allie were here, she would tell you that he is a special case. He was with the Fellowship and he is a warrior of Gondor. He is a better strategist than you will ever be! So be silent and let him speak."

Informant rolled his eyes again, but fell silent.

Boromir gave Pippin a nod of gratitude and pursued: "The worst has come to pass: the Ring is now in enemy hands. On our side of the Gate, there are four wolves and a Halfling. Even if we call the entire pack to our cause, it will be three hundred wolves against thousands and thousands of Orcs, trolls, Southrons, wing wraiths and the Dark Lord himself. We will not storm the walls of Mordor with our numbers. We need an army."

His golden eyes swiped across the company. "Gondor's army. The Ent water Pippin has brought is our salvation. I will turn into a Man once more, talk to my father and convince him that marching against Mordor is the last hope we have left for our kingdom and for Middle-earth. Somehow, I do not think our enemy has the Ring yet, but if we waste any more time, he will torture it out of the Ring-bearer soon enough. If we wait for Sauron to attack with the strength of the Ring behind him, all is lost."

Hunter was already shaking his head: "You still think too much as a Man. This course of action will not save our Queen and the Ringbearer, which is the priority right now. The plan must consist of us getting past this Gate and bringing Queen and the Ringbearer out of Mordor."

"That is folly," Boromir retorted. "We will all die."

Informant grinned. "Told you! His plan is as rotten as his human ambitions."

"You have a better idea?" Pippin snapped.

Sam backed away one step when he saw all the wolves baring fangs at each other. "This does not look good," he muttered. "Not one bit. Oh, what should I do? Mr. Frodo... Allie... is there no way to save you now?"

In the meantime, Pippin was eyeing Informant carefully, for the black wolf had a cold glint to his eyes that Pippin did not like one bit.

"Everybody calm down," Councillor's voice washed over them, smooth as honey. "Your yapping and snarling is giving me a headache all the way from Mordor."

"Oh, says the one taking it easy far far away in Fangorn," Informant snapped sarcastically, not feeling calm one bit.

"Councillor," Hunter spoke up. "Can you help us?"

"The outcome of a battle is seldom determined by one action at a single time and place," Councillor started softly. "Often, in order to win the war, each wolf will have to lead his own battle. I have been listening to Boromir, and it seems that he has already chosen. His battle can only be fought by him and no one else. It is a path that he chose, and the future lying at the end of that path can only be shaped by him. Boromir, you shall proceed as you said. Take a waterskin and march immediately towards your home city."

Boromir looked at the other wolves hesitantly, but Hunter gave him an assertive nod. "Good luck," he groaned.

The wolf seized a waterskin carefully in his jaw and left the pack, running southwest, towards Gondor.

Councillor pursued then: "Informant, you were once a Corsair of Umbar."

"Shut up, old wolf!" Informant immediately snapped.

"When Gondor conquered Umbar, they killed all the descendants of the Castamiri who used to own the seas to the South. They killed everyone, but for you. As a boy, you eluded them. Later on, Harad took over the land and seas, and the Corsairs and Haradrim mixed together. You lived amongst them, your true identity unbeknownst to them. On the day that your secret has finally been revealed, the Haradrim set out to kill you, for you are the last descendant of the Castamiri. You barely managed to escape them, but unfortunately the same could not be said of your wife, who was heavy with child..."

"You will shut your mouth, Councillor, or I will run to Fangorn right now and rip your heart out!" Informant howled with a crazy glint in his eyes, spewing out large chunks of saliva.

Councillor was undisturbed. "You swore vengeance for her, but before you could carry it out, the wolves took you. It is still not too late for your unfinished business, Informant. As of now, the Corsairs are sworn to Sauron. Unless if you kill their leader who, as you well know, was the one who killed your wife. Your path, Informant, is to reclaim your land, reclaim your ships, and reclaim your title as Urithor, prince of Umbar."

Informant had fallen silent, his yellow eyes staring unblinkingly at the ground.

"Take a waterskin," Councillor prompted, "and go South."

"I have given up on that path long ago. I do not wish to return to that place and revisit those memories!" Informant howled angrily before disappearing behind the boulders.

"Come back here, you coward!" Hunter thundered after him.

"Leave him," Councillor intercepted. "There is no time. Hunter, your path shall be the most perilous, so listen carefully. Wolves have reported another company of Southrons heading your way. They will be at the Gate by tomorrow. Take a waterskin and infiltrate the company. You will go into Mordor that way. I trust that I do no need to tell you what you must attempt to do once you go past that Gate?"

Hunter's eye glinted ferociously. "No."

"Protector will go with you as a Halfling," Councillor pursued. "He will be your captive. Use him as an excuse to get close to the Great Eye, for that is where you will find Queen and the Ring-bearer."

"I always get the dirtiest role," Pippin complained good-naturedly. "But it sounds like a good plan. We can always count on your brains, Councillor."

"There is a chance you will not come out alive," Councillor warned him gravely. "But still, as core of the pack, you must go down this path."

"Not as core of the pack," Pippin refuted with a smile. "But as Allie's friend. Isn't that so, Hunter?"

The grey wolf nodded once.

"Good luck, then," Councillor said. "I am not safer than you are. Rohan is under assault by savages and its people are moving towards Helm's Deep. They will not be safe their either, I'm afraid; Saruman's army will be marching towards them soon."

Pippin shook his head. "The world is ending."

He took a waterskin in his jaw and let it fall on Sam's arms. He nudged the cork with his nose and Sam understood, uncorking the waterskin. Pippin opened his jaw and Sam poured some Ent water in the wolf's mouth.

By nightfall, Pippin felt the transformation begin. In less than two seconds, he was a hobbit again. He draped Sam's cape around his shoulders, smiling at the expression of relief on Sam's face.

"Finally I can talk to you!" the gardener exclaimed. "My head felt ready to explode ever since you turned back into a wolf. I didn't know what was happening anymore and... have you all decided on a plan? Why did you separate?"

"We each have our own paths to tread now, Sam. Hunter and I must leave tonight. We have to move South and meet up with a company of Southrons marching towards the Gate. Hunter will also drink the water and we will infiltrate their company. I will be his captive."

Sam's eyes widened. He meant to exclaim about the craziness and danger of such a plan, but came to realize that it was the best way. Possibly the only way. "What about me then? Shall I become the second captive?"

To Sam's horror, Pippin slowly shook his head. His green eyes were sad, but he forced himself to say: "Sam, thank you for coming all this way with me, but your journey must end here. You are not a fighter. In enemy territory, Hunter and I cannot vouch for your safety, seeing as we will barely be able to vouch for our own."

"But..." Sam stuttered, seizing Pippin's cape. "But... you are leaving me here?"

Pippin looked away guiltily. "I wish I could bring you somewhere safe first, but there is no more time. If you march South, you will reach Gondor. They can offer you protection there for the time being."

"Please!" Sam cried out. "There must be something I can do."

"I'm so sorry, Sam."

Pippin eyed the two waterskins still left on the ground, took one up and gave it to Sam. "Keep the water safe."

Sam clenched the waterskin hard as Pippin jumped up onto Hunter's back lightly. "Farewell, my brave Sam. I hope there will come a day when we will meet again: Merry, Frodo, Allie, you and me."

Sam watched with a stricken face as the grey wolf rode away.

Pippin grabbed Hunter's fur hard, but did not turn back.

"It would have been wiser for you to take the water at the same time as me, for its effects to last longer," Hunter said.

"I know," Pippin replied, "but I couldn't leave Sam without a word of explanation."

Sam watched until the grey wolf's shape was lost in the distance, and then he turned away with a heavy heart, feeling more insignificant than an insect. He did not head south, but towards the rocky cliffs bordering the edges of Mordor instead. Maybe he could find a crack where he could sneak through into enemy territory. There wasn't much hope for that, Sam knew, but still he walked.

Night was fallen, the land was dark, but Sam found himself continuing to stumble forward blindly. His mind was full of thoughts of Frodo; he could still feel the aftermath of the pain resulting from learning of Frodo's capture. Was this the end of all things?

His foot got caught in a hole and he fell on his stomach. He stayed that way, unmoving, crying silent tears.

Suddenly, a whimper in the night made his breath hitch. He pressed his hands to the earth by his side and listened. The whimpering sound repeated itself.

Sam crept up to his feet and unsheathed his sword silently. Letting his ears guide him, he shuffled closer and closer to the source of noise. Soon, his nose twitched as it got hold of a terrible stench. It smelled like blood and rot and death.

His heart started pounding. Was there a monster in the night? Was this the end of him?

Two globes of light appeared in front of him, and the whimpering became words: "It hurts... it hurts... we are going to die... the Precious is taken... it hurtsss..."

Sam's breath hitched a little. He recognized the voice. He had heard it when crossing Moria with the Fellowship.

Gollum's senses must have been dimmed by the loss of blood, for he did not feel Sam creep up on him until the coldness of a sword was at his throat.

"Gollum," Sam whispered.

Gollum squawked, but was too weak to do anything but press himself further into the rock.

"You want to die? I can kill you right now," Sam said in the dark.

Gollum started weeping softly, holding his right stump which was still bleeding. "The beast bit off our arm... it hurts to bad... we wants to die, yes, but if we do, we will never see the Precious again. Why did the stupid hobbit have to take the Precious to them?" He wept harder. "We tried saving the Precious... we did... but the big wolf bit off our arm. Gollum! Gollum!"

He spat out some blood. "Why hobbit so stupid to use the front Gate? There were other ways... other ways..."

Sam touched the steel to Gollum's neck again. "Other ways? What do you mean by that?"

Two luminous eyes set on him. "There's... a secret passage. If stupid hobbit had asked us, we'd have taken him that way instead. Up and up the stairs we would have gone, across the... the tunnel we would have gone, and then M-Mordor on the other side! And the Precious..." He started wailing softly.

Sam stood up, his heart pounding in the dark. "Take me there!" he commanded.

Gollum looked up at him through his tears. "Why this hobbit wants to go there?"

Sam crouched down to be at his level once more. "You want to save your Precious, and I want to save Frodo. We have a common goal. Take me to the passage!"

"Not possible... not possible... the passage... the passage is guarded. It is _her_ lair," Gollum shivered.

Sam paused for an instant. "It matters not," he decided. "I will kill whatever beast is in there. You don't need to come with me. Just show me the way."

Gollum hissed softly.

"We are wounded. We cannot walk."

"I can heal you," Sam said, thinking back to the Elvish leaves he had packed from Lorien. One of the Elves had told him that the leaves had healing properties, and Sam had taken a few as specimens. He was reluctant to use them on Gollum, but he had no choice.

"This hobbit can make the pain go away?"

"I can try."

There was a silence. Two globes of light blinked slowly. "Then we has ourselves a deal... yes..."

Sam's eyes hardened in the night. He might have been forsaken by the wolves, but he would carve out his own path from now on.

* * *

In the moonless and starless night above Mordor, a black shape silently trod to where the last waterskin lay in the dust and ashes of the land.

"Urithor, prince of Umbar," the dark wolf whispered to himself. This name that he had thought forgotten... How many years had it been now?

"Councillor, even if I reclaim Umbar, I shall only be their prince until the effects of the Ent water wear off. The pirates will not follow a wolf."

"Then you only have to appoint your heir," Councillor's placid voice replied.

The black wolf grinned a sarcastic smile. "Old wolf, are you telling me to choose someone worthy of the title of prince of Umbar in seven days?"

"Yes, but the choice will not be very hard. Was your woman not with child at the time of her death?"

Informant froze. "Yes, but our son perished. How could he have lived?"

"The night the wolves took you, they fed on her flesh, but the fetus inside of her was still alive. The wolf was going to eat him as well when he was slain by an arrow. Peasants found the child born of swords, fangs and blood and raised him as their own."

"For how long have you known this?!" Informant exploded. "If I had known... If I had known..."

"What would you have done?" Councillor demanded quietly. "Go back to him as a wolf? No. But now you have your chance; the Ent water changes everything, does it not?"

"My son..."

Informant slowly bent down his neck and picked up the waterskin with his teeth.

Back in Fangorn, the brown wolf raised his head to gaze at the canopy of dark green leaves. Softly he chanted to himself:

"White moon and night stars  
Red blood upon ash grounds  
Of eyes and claws  
Of fangs and furs  
A bond is formed  
Deeper than blood  
Born as Elf or born as Dwarf  
Born as Man full or half  
In green lands we shall meet  
Towards darkness we shall walk  
The daughter of night  
Was wrapped in Sun  
She shall come,  
She shall come."

Councillor fell silent. These were words that had come to him when the fever was consuming him after a wolf had bitten him. Perhaps of his Elven roots, sometimes words that seemed to depict the future would come into his head.

"The daughter of night was wrapped in Sun," he repeated to himself, smiling just a slight. "Run wolves, run. Dark days are coming; the time for prophecies is almost at an end."

* * *

Hey guys! So this chapter came much sooner, right? Yeah, I'm happy about it too!

Feedback is always welcome! Tell me what you think! I know I took a long break before the last chapter, but I hope the people who have been reading this before haven't given up on it :o Let me know if you are still there! ;)

Take care!

PS: I took some liberties with Informant's background. Umbar existed, obviously, and they've been in war with Gondor and then Harad, that much is true. But everything about there being a survivor or a prince of Umbar is not in Tolkien's book. I just wanted to give you guys a heads-up here in case someone gets offended by that.

l


	43. Serecor

**Serecor**

Pippin stared in amazement at the dark-skinned and black-haired warrior beside him. Every time the Haradrim moved, hard muscles rippled under oily skin. There was a mass of scar tissue where his left eye used to be; in contrast, his right eye was of a vibrant and penetrating blue. His right ear was also gone, leaving a gaping hole around which the skin was merely healed. All in all, he looked as ominous as one could be. Even though Pippin had known Hunter for years and had grown accustomed to his size and ferocity as a wolf, he suddenly felt intimidated all over again by his human appearance.

Hunter's good eye settled on him and Pippin couldn't help deviating his gaze. They were both hiding behind undergrowth bordering the road leading into Ithilien. Several rabbit bones lay behind them from their latest meal. They couldn't afford to light a fire, so they had eaten the flesh raw. It had tasted better than anything Pippin had eaten lately, and now he felt his energy stores repleted.

Hunter shifted positions on his hands and feet; he was still unaccustomed to moving as a biped. The dark-skinned man sat on his heels with his eye fixated on his hands as though he feared they could disappear at any moment.

"Protector," he spoke slowly, his voice a harsh whisper, "how long did you say the effects of the water would last?"

"Around seven days."

"Good. We should have enough time. Now, where are those Southron humans?" he let out impatiently, eyes scanning the empty road.

Pippin eyed him; so he did not consider himself one of those _humans_ anymore.

Hunter caught him looking again and his face darkened. "Would you stop staring?"

"I am sorry," Pippin mumbled.

Hunter shuffled on his feet again and let out a sigh, and Pippin's thoughts flickered to Allie. He hoped she would be alive still. No, she had to be, along with Frodo.

He rehearsed their plan again in his head, and a thought struck him.

"Hunter, what is your real name?"

Hunter did not turn to look at the hobbit. "I don't remember," he answered after a while.

"Well, that is not good. Should I give you one then?" he smiled toothily.

One blue eye contemplated him. "Very well."

Pippin crossed his arms in thought. "How about... Adelbert? Or maybe Belisarius?"

Hunter gaped at him as he snorted out his contempt. "Is this a joke?"

Pippin's chest swelled up in indignation. "What's wrong with them? They are perfectly good names."

Hunter rolled his eye. "For you little people perhaps. How can a warrior such as I be called _Adelbert_?"

Pippin shrugged. "We could add a nice-sounding last name for you in that case. Such as Adelbert Headstrong, or Adelbert Hornblower. That sounds like a warrior surname, does it not?" Pippin nodded, proud of his creativity.

Hunter couldn't help shivering. "Forget it," he growled. "Don't you dare come up with a name for me ever again."

Pippin laughed inwardly. "What is a Haradrim name like?" he asked once he was certain he would not burst out laughing.

"I don't remember, but Harad is close to Gondor and has been at war with it for long decades. I suppose they would resemble Gondorian names." He snorted at his own words. "This is Gondor's war, and yet a Haradrim such as myself is getting involved to save it."

"Not just Gondor, but all of Middle-earth, including Harad," Pippin reminded him. "Your people are stupid not to realize it. Why do they still follow Sauron?"

"Out of enmity towards Gondor, most likely."

"They are being short-sighted. If only they would just realize..."

Hunter clasped a hand over the Hobbit's mouth to shut him up and glanced at the road. Pippin fell quiet and listened. The muffled sound of a multitude of footsteps rose in the distance, occasionally accompanied by a trumpeting noise.

"This group has Oliphants," Hunter noted.

Pippin inspired deeply. It was time. He exchanged a meaningful look with Hunter and they both nodded. Without further words, Pippin rose from his hiding place and disappeared into the deeper part of the woods, and Hunter soon followed after him.

The army of Haradrim passed them by slowly, stepping on the dirt and twigs of the road, their steel boots beating a military cadence on the ground. Oliphants slowly marched past, carrying high seats made of wood and ropes on which warriors with painted faces sat.

After some time, a Haradrim detached himself from the group to go into the forest to relieve himself. When he was done and turned around from the tree, he thought he spotted movement from the corner of his eye. To his astonishment, a child stepped towards him. Except that this child had the face of an adult. The Southron's hand tightened around his spear. "Who goes there?"

The little person gave him a lopsided smile accompanied by a shoulder shrug. "I'm sorry. Nothing personal."

The Southron was still frowning in confusion when Hunter silently sneaked up behind him and broke his neck with a single twist of his hands.

"Well, that was fairly easy," Pippin remarked.

Hunter started stripping the dead Haradrim of his clothes and weapons and then proceeded to put them on himself. As he pulled the boots over his feet, he groaned in frustration at the uncomfortable pressure. After he was dressed, he sat down and allowed Pippin to carefully braid his dark long hair.

When they were ready, they followed the army at a distance as they navigated out of the woods and into the acrid lands around Mordor, heading towards the Black Gate. The army blew a horn, and the tower guards let them in as Hunter and Pippin watched from the boulders.

When night fell, Hunter took out some rope from his backpack and wrapped it in a knot around Pippin's wrist. He tugged on it, making Pippin stumble forward and fall on his knees. Pippin shot him a dark look. "Be careful!"

"Careful?" Hunter snapped back, his eye glowing in the growing darkness. "You are my captive now, so keep your mouth shut."

Pippin sighed. "Getting into character already, I see."

However, from Hunter's clenched jaw, the hobbit could guess that he was nervous.

"Let's begin," the Haradrim muttered, tugging again on the rope, albeit more gently this time.

Pippin inspired deeply and followed.

The gazes from the Orcs on the watchtowers felt like burning coals on their skin as they made their way toward the giant Gate.

"Who goes there?" a harsh voice inquired from above.

"I am a scout of the Haradrim army," Hunter spoke up in a booming voice that filled the night space between them. "Let me pass."

"What do you have there with you?" the Orc asked again.

Hunter's gaze swiped over the line of Orcs on the high parapet of the tower. "Something for the Great Eye."

Silence welcomed his words, and then, slowly, the Gate creaked open.

* * *

Frodo coughed in the dry air of his cell as agonizing pain shot up his legs. The coldness of the wall he was leaning against was seeping through his skin and bones, but it could not take his mind off the pain. He crossed his arms tighter around his naked chest and slowly looked down at his legs, where large patches of skin had been meticulously peeled off, revealing the red flesh underneath. The constant feeling of cold air on his open wounds burned and stung in a constant ache.

The Orc who had been questioning him had started with his feet, peeling off the hard skin there with a small rusty knife as Frodo screamed with his arms chained over his head. Then, with every question that went unanswered, with every answer that the Orc had felt was a lie, he had flayed the skin further and further up his calves.

Frodo didn't know how many hours or days it had been since he had been thrown into this hell; it could have been an eternity for all he knew. He could barely remember what life was like before the pain. The only hours of consolation were when he passed out into a dark comatose state populated with nightmares. However, invariably, he was then awoken for the next round of questioning and torture.

He looked around him slowly, hoping something in his desolate surroundings would distract him away from the burning sensation of air against his open wounds, but nothing did.

He should just tell them where he had hidden the Ring, shouldn't he? And then they would kill him and the pain would stop.

His hand crawled around his neck for the Ring, but it was not there. Of course it was not there. He tried not to look at the place where he had hidden it. He must _never_ look there.

The half-moon pendant was gone too; it had been ripped off when Gollum had snatched the Ring away from him. Was that an omen of what was to come? The pain in his legs was so unbearable that he dug his nails into the skin of his arms, leaving red marks.

He wanted to scream.

Where was Allie? Were they doing this to her too?

They had taken everything from him, every single possession: the mithril coat he had been wearing, his cape, his backpack, and the star of Earendil. He was swimming all alone in darkness and pain and fever.

Maybe he should just confess the next time the Orc came.

Maybe he should just _use_ the Ring.

"No!" he screamed as he grabbed his head between his hands.

"Will you shut up already? Or I will peel off your lips next!" the dreaded voice suddenly boomed from inside his cell.

Frodo had not heard his tormentor enter, but now he fixed the Orc with terror as he pressed himself against the wall desperately. Why was his torturer here? It was too soon for the next questioning. Or could he not tell time anymore?

"Stand up!" the Orc ordered, whipping him on the arms. "Now!"

Frodo couldn't. Even the pain from touching his heels to the ground was too much to bear. He couldn't stand up even if the Orc whipped him to death.

The latter seemed to notice as well. He rolled his bloodshot eyes and seized Frodo from under one armpit, pulling him upright. Half carrying him, the Orc dragged him out of the cell. Even the roughness of his grip couldn't detract Frodo's mind from his feet. He tried to flex his legs off the floor but the Orc was not lifting him high enough for that. He screamed when his feet touched the ground of the hallway. He never knew this much pain was even possible as tears squeezed out of his eyes.

Just when he thought he was going to pass out, he was thrown down on the floor. He stayed there for a moment, hoping ardently his consciousness would flicker out, but to his despair the burning pain brought him back to reality. He whimpered and lifted his head just enough to make out a throne made of skulls looming behind boots of steel.

Even in this moment, he knew that the sight in front of him was what he had glimpsed in Galadriel's mirror. That dark prediction was now his present.

"Frodo!" a voice called out shrilly from behind him.

A flicker of light returned to his blue irises. _Allie?_

The boots moved closer to him and a tough grip lifted him upright again. The world spun in front of his eyes ever so slowly as he dimly registered the round chamber surrounding him. An eerie red light fell on him from above, and when he looked up, there was the huge smoky pupil of the burning Eye of Sauron bearing over him from the hole in the ceiling. Frodo's knees buckled under him in fear and he felt the Orc's grip tighten painfully around his arm to keep him standing.

He snatched his eyes away from the Eye with difficulty, and saw a wooden cage in front of the dark throne. Allie was gripping the bars of the cage, her grey eyes filled with horror at the sight of him.

"Frodo..." she whispered.

Frodo saw blood in her hair and bruises on her cheek, but otherwise she looked unhurt. He felt a second of relief before a giant mouth filled his field of vision, and putrid breath accompanied the words that came out of it: "Baadash, our guest looks a little pale."

An Uruk stepped forward and slapped him so hard his neck cracked and a fresh cut opened up on his cheek.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Allie screamed, shaking the bars of her cage in helpless rage.

The Mouth gave a small sign, and the Orc threw Frodo on the floor right in front of her cage. Allie squatted down and reached out a hand to touch him, but her fingers stopped short an inch from his head. "Frodo! Oh… Frodo!"

Frodo lifted his head, panting a little from the effort. Allie was pressing her face against the bars, straining to reach him with her outstretched hand. Tears were pouring down her cheeks, but she was not aware of them.

"Allie..." Frodo croaked. He extended his arm to touch her hand.

Baadash stepped on his hand, crushing it under his boot. Frodo let out a scream.

"I told you to leave him alone, you dirty piece of scum! Haven't you done enough already?" Allie wailed in heartache and rage. "Get me out of here! I will rip your throat off, I swear! I will make you pay!" Her grey eye riveted on the Mouth as well. "All of you! You will wish you were never born when I'm done with you!"

The Mouth let out a laugh. "Show me your despair, Glor Bereth. It is much better than your mask of false countenance. If I had known, I would have brought this Halfling sooner."

Allie shook the bars, enraged. Her eyes were harsh as ice, filled with hatred.

"After searching him thoroughly some more, we have arrived to the unfortunate conclusion that the Ring is not in his possession," the Mouth continued impassively. "But, I have a feeling that you are inclined to tell me the truth today, my Queen."

The Mouth nodded to Baadash, and then went to sit on the throne of bones after pushing his cape out of the way.

The Uruk smirked and stepped on Frodo's hand a bit harder, drawing another wail from the hobbit.

"I don't know where it is!" Allie cried, "I don't know! How many more times do I have to say it? I don't know! I don't know! Please, stop hurting him!"

Baadash bent down and lifted Frodo's head up by the hair. "Tell me where the Ring is, or I will break your hand."

"I...I don't... have it."

"Oh? Then who does?"

"I don't... know."

The Uruk removed his foot from his bloodied hand. Before Frodo could feel relief, Baadash grabbed his wrist and pulled it upwards, forcing his fingers to stretch open. He pressed down on the pinky finger, stretching it as far as it would go. Frodo grimaced.

"No!" Allie shrieked. "Don't do that! Stop hurting him, you bastard! You can... you can do it to me instead." She fell on her knees and lowered herself to beg the Uruk with a tear-stricken face. "Please..."

She considered telling them the truth. It felt as if her heart was being crushed to pieces inside her chest.

The Mouth smiled from the throne. "The beggar Queen," he mocked. "See what you have become because of him? Where is your pride now?"

Baadash pressed a bit harder on Frodo's finger, making the hobbit scream. Suddenly, there was a sickening crack as the bone broke. Frodo's scream echoed around the walls of the round chamber, soon joined by Baadash's guttural laughter and the Mouth's snicker.

Allie fixed Frodo's pain-stricken face and felt her soul freeze. All her extremities turned numb and cold as ice, and she couldn't breathe. She cradled her hand to her chest as though it was her own finger that they had broken.

The wail that came out of her mouth morphed into a howl as the wolf exploded out of her. She threw herself against the bars of her cage, again and again as a red veil descended in front of her eyes.

The cage toppled from its stone pedestal and hit the floor with a clang. One the bars twisted under the shock and immediately the wolf clawed and bit at it until it snapped like a twig. She charged against the opening, shattering the neighboring bars. Before anyone could react, she was bursting out of the cage in a flash of yellow fur.

Baadash hollered as his chest was clawed open. Only his quick step backward saved his life. The wolf lunged at him again, but suddenly froze in mid-stride as the Uruk rammed Serecor on his finger. Allie opened her jaw silently as her muscles bulged uselessly.

"Damn beast!" Baadash swore.

Frodo watched the scene in horror, his eyes lingering on the flash of red around the Uruk's fingers.

The light of the Eye bathed the chamber in fire as the Mouth slowly stood up from the throne. He walked up to the wolf and sank his hand in the fur of her neck. Allie's wide eye rolled to his smiling teeth. The Mouth leaned in close and whispered: "You should not have done that."

Baadash held up a whip reamed with iron hooks in one hand as he tried to contain the bleeding on his chest with the other. Letting out a grunt of rage, he slashed it at the wolf, making the hooks bite into her flank. He then pulled the whip back with all his strength, causing flesh and fur to come off with it.

Allie fell on her side as Frodo screamed out her name.

Baadash stumbled closer to her and lashed the whip at her again and again, panting with the effort. Frodo crawled towards her on his forearms and stomach, dragging his legs behind him. "Stop it! Please stop it!" he begged as he crawled.

He finally reached the Uruk and draped both arms around his leg to hold him back. Baadash kicked him away without a second thought and continued beating the wolf. With a last surge of desperation, Frodo threw himself in front of Allie and spread out his arms protectively, panting in fear.

The Uruk paused for a second, but then lifted the whip again.

"I will tell you what you want to know!" Frodo screamed out hoarsely, as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Baadash's fury was beyond reason, however. He snarled and raised the whip, but this time the Mouth of Sauron stepped forward and halted his arm. For a moment, the Uruk eyed him with narrow eyes, itching to kill him as well. Then, the voice of Sauron filled the chamber, speaking in the guttural tongue of Mordor.

Fear crept up upon the Uruk's face as the whip fell from his limp fingers.

The Mouth let him go and turned to stare down at Frodo's bent and broken shape. "Speak."

Frodo was breathing fast, his eyes shaking. He swallowed with difficulty and opened his mouth. Suddenly, he felt Allie place a paw on his thigh. He met her pleading silver eyes.

"Speak!" The Mouth repeated.

Frodo clenched his fist. "I..."

At that moment, the doors of the round chamber were pushed open, and in came an Orc.

"We are busy!" the Mouth snapped.

The Orc faltered a bit, but then stuttered: "T-there's a v-visitor for the Great Eye."

The light of the Eye fell on him from above.

"It can wait," the Mouth snapped again impatiently.

"No, it cannot," a harsh voice replied from behind the Orc.

A big Haradrim strolled into the room. His unique eye travelled quickly around the chamber, fixing upon Frodo kneeling in front of the wolf covered in blood. No expression crossed his face as he looked away from the scene to stare at the Mouth of Sauron instead. He pulled harshly on a rope and a Halfling stumbled from behind him to kneel down on the ground.

Frodo felt his breath catch.

Silence filled the room for a couple of seconds before the Mouth dismissed the Orc and turned his full attention on the Haradrim.

"Where did you find him?"

"I was scouting for my chieftain and came upon him in the woods of Ithilien. I thought him to be a spy and captured him." A smirk painted itself on his lips. "I was going to kill him, but then I remembered the rumors stating that the Great Eye was in search of a Halfling. If that is true, I do hope for a high reward in exchange of my prize."

The Mouth approached the Halfling at the end of the rope and pulled on his shabby blonde hair. Two scared green eyes peered up at him from a muddy face.

The Mouth considered Pippin and suddenly grinned through cracked lips.

The Haradrim's eye stopped on Allie and Frodo once more, lingering on the whip marks on her body and the flayed skin of his legs. His face was impassive as he added: "If it is information you want, this one will not disappoint you," he kicked Pippin in the ribs. "He is a coward."

The Mouth grinned satisfactorily. "Most convenient. I will see to your reward, scout. Now, there is a lot of work to do, so if you will excuse me... Baadash, do lead our guest to his quarters where he can await adequate compensation. And do try not to stain the hallways with your dirty blood."

Baadash staggered up on his feet unsteadily and walked up obediently to the Southron. Both of them then left the room.

The Mouth returned his attention to Pippin, who was eyeing Frodo and Allie with horror in his eyes. "Halfling, let me make something quite clear. You can choose to answer my questions, or you can choose torture."

The golden wolf now had her eyes open a slit as she watched.

Pippin swallowed quite audibly.

"I... What questions? What do you want with me?"

The Mouth smiled. "You know them, do you not?" he asked, signalling to Frodo and the wolf.

Pippin's eyes travelled to them quickly, and then back again. "Y-yes," he admitted in a small voice.

The Mouth nodded. "When did you part with them?"

Pippin looked at the wolf for a split second. "We... they... they left at the fall of Rauros. I have not seen them since then. But Frodo... what did you do to Frodo?"

"It is what will befall you as well if you withhold the truth from the Great Eye."

Pippin snapped his head back. "No! I will! I will tell you everything!"

The Mouth crouched down to be at his level. "Then tell me this: where is the Ring?"

"What?"

"The Ring!" the Mouth repeated, less pleasantly this time. "Where is it?"

Pippin twisted his hands, bit his lip, and spoke without looking at him: "No... I promised I wouldn't say... but..." he eyed Frodo again and fear filled his eyes. "My... my friend has it. The one who is still with the Fellowship."

"Where is he headed?"

Without looking at him, Pippin answered in a small voice: "The White City. Minas Tirith."

* * *

Allie watched, helpless, as the floor approached her face. She tried to protect herself with her arms, but she was unable to move. The impact drove her breath out of her lungs. Dimly, she heard the door of the cell close behind her. Only then did she feel the Blood Ring release its hold on her. Slowly, she pushed herself up on her feet and stumbled to the door to grip the bars of the high window and press her forehead against its cold surface.

Behind her, Pippin approached and placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. He felt the edges of her bones and the thickness of the blood seeping through her suit.

"Allie..." he called out in concern.

Allie kept her forehead to the door; no matter how hard she squeezed her eyes shut, she couldn't stop seeing the image of Frodo bruised and barely conscious as Baadash crushed his hand under his boot. And the sound of his finger when it broke...

She leaned to the side and retched violently, but nothing came out. She gripped her throat with a grimace, and felt the wild heartbeat under her fingertips. Her hand was covered in red as she let it fall from her throat. For a second, she stared at the blood, as though stupefied that it came from her. Slowly, she became aware of the gashes on her flank and back and cruelly remembered the way the whip had clawed at her flesh.

Pippin's concerned face swam into her field of vision and she felt more than saw his hands softly pushing back strands of wild hair. She gripped his hand tightly in hers, unable to marvel at his presence, unable to feel anything except a deep ache in her chest. "You have to help me," she found herself sobbing. "I need to find Frodo. He was... he was..."

Unable to continue, she could only gaze at Pippin through her tears.

"I know," Pippin answered with an expression that mirrored hers. "We will, Allie, I promise."

Allie barely heard him. "I should have broken out of that cage when the Mouth was gone," she murmured wildly to herself, wringing her hands. "Why didn't I? Why?"

"Because you couldn't..." Pippin answered. "That Ring the Uruk had, what is it? Why can it affect..."

"You don't think they are torturing him again?" Allie cut him off with wide eyes. "You don't think... I mean... why are we both here and he is not? He protected me against the Uruk, and then he said..." Horror invaded her eyes. "You don't think..."

She turned towards the door and crashed her shoulder into it. Pippin swiftly held her back by the waist.

"Let me go!" she shrieked, kicking. "I can't be here! I need to find him!"

"Calm down Allie!" Pippin yelled, barely able to contain her furious movements. "Calm down! You cannot lose your mind!"

By sheer strength, he managed to twirl her around and lock his arms around her thrashing body. He then pressed her face against his shoulder with his hand at the back of her head. At first she screamed and fought like a wild beast, but Pippin held on tight even when she knocked them both to the ground. After a while, the energy seemed to be sapped out of her at once as she fell limp in his arms except for the heavy heaving of her chest.

"You cannot lose your mind," Pippin repeated in a soft whisper, rubbing calming circles on her back.

Allie's whimper became a sob when she clenched a fistful of Pippin's clothes in both fists.

At that moment, the door of their cell creaked open and Frodo's body was thrown upon the ground beside them. Allie's head jerked up and the Orc who had brought him quickly shut the door fearfully. However, Allie's whole attention was riveted upon Frodo who lay unmoving on the ground.

For a terrible second, she thought he was dead. She crawled towards him on shaky and anxious limbs. She wanted to call out his name, but there seemed to be a ball of cotton lodged inside her throat. She touched the bare skin of his back and his hand twitched a bit.

Unable to say a word, she carefully turned him over, trying not to look at his bloodied legs and the multiple cuts and bruises on his arms and chest.

She placed his head gently on her knees and slowly caressed the side of his face. Frodo let out a small whimper. "Allie?" he asked in a voice so low that she barely heard it.

"I'm here..." she finally croaked, leaning down and cradling his head in her arms."I'm here."

Frodo opened his eyes a slight with difficulty, hearing her cry. Slowly, he lifted his good hand and placed it on her head. She cradled him tighter and pressed her eyes shut to contain her tears.

"It hurts..." he whispered hoarsely, letting his hand drop.

Allie caught it in hers and pressed it to her chest. "I know... I will... I will try to make it better."

She pulled away a little, but Frodo stopped her with a squeeze of his hand. "Allie..."

His eyes searched for hers and found them.

"I'm so sorry, Allie," he murmured. "Everything I said before, when we were in front of the Gate... I just wanted you to know..."

Allie shook her head, feeling new tears gather in her eyes. "Shh, I know. I know everything, so just...do not think about that anymore." She ran a hand through his black curls. "It's all because I did not understand your burden. Please forgive me, Frodo. I will never let anyone hurt you again, I promise."

She held him off the ground a little and rocked him in her arms. Frodo wrapped his arm around her waist, a tear rolling down the side of his face.

"Don't you worry," she whispered. "Soon you will be better, and we will get out of here."

Frodo allowed his eyes to close again. "All right."

Allie wiped at her eyes and called for Pippin.

Pippin approached, his green eyes shiny with tears. "Frodo, you look terrible..." he commented, failing at conjuring up a light tone.

With Pippin's help, Allie carried Frodo to the base of the wall.

"Hold him tight," she instructed Pippin.

The latter nodded and pressed his hands on Frodo's thighs to stabilize them. Allie crouched down beside Frodo's head and held his hand: "My wolf saliva will help to heal your wounds. But... it will hurt, Frodo. It will hurt a lot. I don't want to cause you more pain, but you have to bear with me, please."

Frodo didn't open his eyes, only tapped her hand gently. "I trust you."

Allie looked at his face with a trembling chin. She leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead. "It will be over soon."

Then, she turned into a wolf. She exchanged a glance with Pippin, and the latter signaled to her that he was ready. The wolf bent her head down and slowly, meticulously, started licking at the open flesh on Frodo's flayed legs.

Frodo screamed and thrashed, but Pippin pressed down on his thighs to keep him immobile.

The taste of Frodo's blood invaded Allie's tongue, and her heart broke at the sound of his cries.

_I'm sorry... I'm sorry... Just a bit more..._

She let her saliva flow over his wounds and then sprayed them evenly with her tongue. Some places were already infected and she had to gently bite off the infection with her teeth. Frodo gave another scream and then lost consciousness.

Pippin let out a trembling breath. "At least he will not feel anything now."

Allie simply continued working, her eyes unblinking.

* * *

Frodo woke up with a start with beads of cold sweat plastering his bangs to his forehead. Was it that time again? Was the Orc with the knife coming soon? There was a dull ache coming from his legs, but it was no longer the sharp burning pain from before.

And then, Allie's voice was whispering reassuring words near his ear as her hand rubbed soothing circles over his shoulder blades. From where she touched him, warmth steadily spread out to the rest of his body. At first, he was stunned by this feeling of well-being that he wondered whether he had drifted off into a dream once more.

When he finally opened his eyes, he found himself nestled in Allie's arms with his head resting on her shoulder. "You are all right now," she was telling him as she stroked his hair. "No one will hurt you anymore."

He tilted her face up to look at her and she smiled down at him affectionately. "Allie... Is this a dream? Or am I dead?"

Allie only shook her head and smiled, not trusting herself to speak. Frodo released the breath he had been holding. This was real. She was here with him now.

Slowly, the events from before he lost consciousness unfurled in his mind. He winced as he tried to look down at his legs.

"Pippin and I bandaged them up to the best of our abilities. We wrapped up your hand as well, so it is best if you keep it still for now," Allie told him with a trace of sadness in her voice.

Frodo saw his right hand wrapped in a piece of green tissue, ripped from an Elven cloak. The rest of the cloak, which must have been Allie's, was wrapped around his shoulders, conferring him warmth.

He looked up at her once more and noticed the trails of dried blood on her cheeks. Slowly, he put his hand against her flank where the whip of the Uruk must have torn her flesh. She saw the concern in his eyes and gently but firmly uprooted his hand and clenched it in hers.

"It is already healing. Do not worry about me."

Frodo knew it was not true, but he still nodded. Grey eyes met blue ones as they simply considered each other for a few moments. There was no need for words. They both understood that they had almost lost each other and they both knew how fortunate they were to still be able to look at each other in the eyes like this as though nothing else in the world existed.

"How long have I been unconscious?" Frodo finally asked.

"A whole day, I think. It is hard to tell night from day in his dark place."

She broke eye contact with him to stare out at the black sky from the small opening at the top of their cell.

Frodo struggled to sit upright and Allie guided him by the shoulders until he was leaned against the wall with a wince. Frodo then saw Pippin sitting on the other side of Allie, smiling at him through a dusty face, and this time he was lucid enough to be surprised.

"Pippin? How did you get inside the Tower?"

Pippin told him about the Ent water; about how Hunter and he had used it to trick their way into Barad-Dur.

"Where is Hunter now?" Allie inquired a bit worriedly.

Pippin frowned. "I don't know. The last time I saw him, Baadash was walking him out of that round chamber."

Frodo shifted until he was sitting more comfortably, which was no easy task when he could not put pressure on his feet. "What is your plan now?"

Pippin shrugged slightly. "We had a plan to get in, but I am sad to say we do not have one to get out. I suppose we have to improvise from here."

Allie was pensive. "Sauron must have believed in your story, Pippin. That was well done. He now thinks Minas Tirith has the Ring. He might believe that Gondor will use it if he puts pressure on them, which means that soon he will gather his army and march towards the White City. If they do, they will be too busy to think about us for a time."

"Boromir went to Minas Tirith to convince his father to gather an army against Mordor, so Minas Tirith should not be unprepared," Pippin mused.

Allie's eyes lit up. "Boromir did? That is very good indeed."

"The problem is, Minas Tirith does not have the Ring. You two still have it somewhere, don't you?"

Allie and Pippin both turned to Frodo. Frodo looked back and slowly nodded. "It is in my old cell," he whispered in a low voice after making sure no Orcs were lurking outside their cell. "They took everything: my mithril coat, the light of Earendil and even Sting, but those Orcs are not very bright. They searched me many times, but they never thought to look inside the prison."

"Do you remember how to get back to that cell?"

Frodo nodded again. "It was on the ground floor of the Tower. I believe we are higher up presently."

Allie rested her chin on her knee. "That is the first place we need to go to once we get out of here."

"Let us suppose that against all odds we manage to escape from here with the Ring, what should we do then?" Pippin mused. "Mount Doom is close, but it will be impossible to get there unseen with so many Orcs crawling about."

"Yes, we will have to hide somewhere until Mordor's army marches out..."

Frodo looked at her: "But once they find out that we have escaped, they will search for us. Staying in Mordor will be difficult."

"You are right," she conceded. "We might have to consider escaping out of Mordor."

"By the Gate?" Pippin asked dubiously. "And after all the trouble it took us to get inside?"

They fell silent for a time, considering their options, which all looked equally grim.

"No," Frodo suddenly spoke up. "Our best hope is still to make it to Mount Doom. I know how impossible a task it is at this point, but I must find a way!"

Pippin was torn upon hearing Frodo's words, but he silently acknowledged the sense behind them. Running away would serve no purpose. They were so close to their goal now; they had to find a way no matter how difficult it might be.

Allie considered him with pride and hurt swirling in her chest. His spirit was not broken even after everything he had endured at the hands of the enemy. And she would be there alongside him until the bitter end.

"We will go with you," she declared. "We will fight our way to Mount Doom if necessary."

Pippin nodded emphatically. "Hunter's unit and mine must still be gathered outside the Black Gate. They need but a word from you and they will break in. Shall we call them after the effects of the water wear off?"

Allie tapped her fingers against her knee. "Not without a plan first. Charging through the Black Gate will get half of them killed, and the other half will be of no match to the army of Orcs that lie between the Gate and this Tower. If we are to make use of our recruits, we need them to be an element of surprise while minimizing our losses at the same time."

She drew a circle in the dusty floor of their cell and then drew two lines on either side. "This is the Gate," she pointed at the circle, "and these are the mountains on either side. Is there any other entrance into Mordor from there, I wonder?"

Pippin chewed on his lower lip as he racked his brains, wishing he had not been so inattentive when Councillor had tried to instill the basics of Middle-earth geography into his brain. Now, the old wolf was out of reach.

Frodo listened to them attentively as they continued discussing strategy, but then his attention was snatched away at a sudden pang of loss in his chest. He inspired sharply and tried to chase the image of the Ring away from his mind. Ever since he had hid it away in his old cell, there would be moments in which he felt almost desperate to hold it in his hands again. This unhealthy yearning frightened him, especially when he reminded himself of how he had spoken and acted towards Allie right before he fell down that cliff in front the Black Gate; and yet a part of him constantly tried to brush those fears aside. All he needed was to see it again, he told himself. Just to make sure that it was safe.

"Frodo?" Allie's voice drifted to his ears, snapping his attention back to the present.

She must have seen his state of mind in the disoriented and yet guilty expression in his eyes, for she immediately asked him whether it was the Ring again.

Frodo looked away, almost tempted to lie, but then thought better of it. After everything that had happened, she deserved the truth, no matter how ugly it made him seem. "I'm sorry," he said with his forehead to his knees. "Its hold on me has grown stronger than I ever thought it possible." His eyes were full of remorse when he met her gaze once more. "I wish that I was stronger than this."

"Stronger than this?" Pippin exclaimed. "Frodo, you have shown more resilience to its evil magic than even the most accomplished warriors. It is not an easy task. Don't rebuke yourself for it."

Allie nodded to Pippin's words. "There is light and darkness in every individual, Councillor used to say. It is the way of the world. The Ring brings out the deepest darkness in every person. I do not think even the Valars would be immune to it, even though they are as close to being Gods as one can be in this world. To be affected by the Ring is nothing to be ashamed of. Lesser people would have succumbed to its whispers ages before you."

Frodo considered Allie and Pippin with a weary smile. "No matter how much you both mince your words, you cannot deny that we are in this predicament because of me. The Ring clouded my judgement and my heart, and as a result I have said and done things that I can never take back."

Allie grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her head on. Her tone was serious when she spoke: "Listen to me well, Frodo. If I am no longer thinking of those few words you threw out when you were not yourself, then why should you linger on them? If we were to truly examine every event leading to us getting captured, then I would begin with my own senseless pride. And then it will just be a vicious cycle of trying to find where to lay the blame. No, Frodo, let us forget about those trivial things and focus on what is real. And what is real to me is the strength you have in here."

She pressed her palm against his heart. "Making the decision to continue this Quest is not easy. It is not what anyone would have done. Please don't underestimate what you can accomplish."

Frodo's eyes were shaking with emotion. "But having the will does not mean having the capability. Look at me, Allie..."

"And look at _me_, Frodo. My wolf abilities are granted to me by the Blood, but now that the enemy has that twisted Ring, I am as powerless as one can be! But your strength and your courage lie inside of you and no one can take them away from you, Frodo! Those things are what is truly real."

Her expression grew tender when Frodo wiped a hand across his face, rattled by her words. Did he truly seem like that to her eyes? What was real to _him_ was her courage, her honesty and her light. He had been able to go forward all this time because he had been watching her. However, because she was so important to him, she eclipsed everything else.

He suddenly thought back to that moment in the round chamber when he had been so close to telling the Mouth that he had the Ring. He had felt so torn at that moment between his love and his duty that it had felt as though his soul would split in half. But then, it was Frodo the hobbit who had won that fight, and not the Ring-bearer.

He lifted troubled eyes towards her. "There is one more thing, Allie. Back there in the chamber..."

"I know," she cut him off with eyes cast down to her clasped hands.

Frodo leaned his head back against the cold wall and closed his hands. He had lay it all out; he had raised the question of whether he truly was fit to be the Ring-bearer. He knew he carried the fate of the world on his shoulders, but was he supposed to do nothing but watch when the light of his life was being put out?

His eyes fluttered open when her arms circled around his neck and she gathered him tightly in his arms. A strand of blonde curls tickled his cheek as he found himself reciprocating the gesture. The contact made his bruises and wounds ache, but he just hugged her all the tighter.

Allie did not know what to say to him. She understood him completely. She remembered how she had felt like dying when she had been helpless inside the cage as the Uruk hurt him. She would have done the exact same thing as he did if their roles had been reversed. And yet...

"Frodo, next time..." she started.

Frodo nodded gently as he held her. "Next time I have to be the Ring-bearer first. I have to, don't I?"

"Yes," she acquiesced softly.

He knew it as well. Next time, duty needed to come first. He deposited a light kiss on her forehead and she returned it on his lips.

Suddenly, a squeal resounded in the hallway, followed by a deep vibration on the walls.

Allie and Frodo pulled back, their bodies tensing. "You heard that?" she whispered.

Pippin scrambled to his feet from where he had been analyzing the drawing of Mordor's landscape in the dust, and approached the door with caution. A body banged against it from outside, and then there was the sound of the lock breaking as the door was thrown open. Pippin jumped back, ready to fight, until he recognized the intruder as a tall Southron man.

"Hunter!" he called out in relief.

Hunter, however, was grimacing darkly as a sword wound bled on his arm. "Get moving. NOW!" His eye rolled to Allie and a flicker of relief flashed in its depth.

"You need to carry Frodo," Allie spoke up as she gently extricated herself from him. Hunter looked on both sides of the hallway before strolling into the small cell urgently. Allie cautioned him about Frodo's legs, but Hunter was already scooting the hobbit up in his arms.

"I'm fine," Frodo panted, passing an arm around the Southron's neck.

Pippin was already out in the hallway. "Where to?" he asked.

Allie pointed. "There are stairs there, I see it. We need to get to ground level."

"What if someone sees us? We cannot fight the whole garrison of Mordor!" Pippin exclaimed as he ran.

"I have a plan," Hunter announced as he hurried them onto the sinewy staircase. The steps leading down were dimly illuminated by torches inserted at irregular intervals. The steps were slippery with filth and dried blood.

The Southron and the two hobbits swiftly glided down like shadows. Before reaching ground level, Hunter pulled them onto a narrow hallway that led into the gloom. At the end of it stood a stoic metallic door. Hunter pushed it open with his shoulder, revealing piles and piles of odd objects. There were golden goblets, rusty swords, a silver helmet, and other objects that seemed to have been taken from Sauron's prisoners and victims over time, now all piled up and forgotten. A shimmer attracted Frodo's attention.

"That is my mithril coat!" he exclaimed and pointed towards it.

Hunter set him down against the wall, fetched the mithril coat and threw it at him. "Put it on then."

"Galadriel's light must be somewhere in here too!" Frodo continued, scanning the piles of objects.

"We will never find it," Pippin remarked. "It was a fine gift too. But more importantly Hunter, why are we here?"

"I passed by this room when that Uruk was first leading me to where I was to await compensation for bringing you to Sauron. Now, I am hoping to find some rope in here that we can use to escape from one of the higher windows on this floor."

Pippin was about to retort that they could just jump out the window in their wolf forms before remembering they were stuck in their non-wolf forms until the effects of the Ent water were to fade. He never thought the day would come when he would regret not being a wolf.

Allie was considering Hunter gravely. "What happened to Baadash? How did you know where to find us?"

Hunter snorted in contempt. "I did not trust that Uruk one bit. After he left me alone in my temporary room, I pretended to sleep, and wise was I to do so." He spat to the side. "An Orc soon crept up on me to slit my throat. Sauron's orders, no doubt. I killed him, put him under the covers instead and escaped. I tried getting back to the throne chamber. As I neared it, I saw Orcs carrying Protector and you out of it. I followed them and saw them putting you in that cell."

Allie sighed. It seemed there was not a shred of honor among Sauron's ranks.

In the meantime, Frodo was searching the room urgently as he put on the mithril coat awkwardly with one hand. He knew Galadriel's light was in here somewhere. He did not know why he was so frantic to find it, but his heart seemed to be telling him to do so. Suddenly, words that he had never heard of swirled up at the back of his throat, as though having been engraved into his subconscious a long time ago. He took in a deep breath and let the words out:_ "Aiya Eärendil Elenion Ancalima!"_

Allie, Pippin and Hunter turned to look at him in dismay, before dim rays of a white light suddenly shone through the piles of objects, bathing the room in ethereal light. Frodo's mouth fell agape as he pointed towards its source.

Allie picked up a chainmail and a goblet, threw them out of the way, and hovered over the crystal phial of blueish liquid containing the light of Earendil's star. Beside it lay Sting, whose blade was giving off a dim blue light. Allie reverently held up the phial in front of her eyes, watching as its light slowly dwindled. She picked up Sting as well and handed both objects to Frodo, speechless.

However, Hunter was frowning upon the Ring-bearer darkly. "You should not have said those words. Any light is greatly visible in this dark place. We must hurry away now, before..."

His hand flew to his sword when footsteps resounded down the hallway, and rough Orc voices were heard, getting louder as they approached.

The three hobbits and the Southron exchanged a panicked glance.

"I saw something flickering inside this room," a nasal voice piped up.

"What could possibly flicker in there?" another replied. "If you are making me waste my time, I will spill your guts on this very floor."

Hunter silently positioned himself beside the closed door and raised two fingers in front of his face. Allie and Pippin nodded, also acknowledging that there were only two Orcs outside.

Pippin positioned himself on the other side of the door as Allie went to stand in front of Frodo. The latter sat quietly against the wall, swallowing nervously as the voices came closer and closer.

Suddenly, the door creaked open and the first Orc strolled in. His eyes narrowed upon seeing Allie and Frodo on the other side of the room, half hidden behind the piles of objects. Before he could raise the alarm, however, a sword pierced through his neck from side to side. The second Orc watched dully as his companion fell to the floor with a gurgle.

The remaining Orc followed the hand holding the sword and fell on the grim face of Hunter. The Orc drew his sword with a grunt and dashed towards him, but before he could make two steps, a weight fell on his shoulders. He did not have time to look back before Pippin grabbed his head and twisted it. A loud crack split the quiet of the room and the Orc's body crushed to the ground, his neck bent at an unnatural angle.

Pippin landed on all fours, his green eyes shining in the dark. Hunter pulled his sword out of the neck of the other Orc and wiped it clean on his shirt. His eye roamed around the room and finally fell on a roll of rope. He told Pippin to pick it up as he scooted Frodo up in his arms again. "We would be wise not to linger any longer."

Pippin acquiesced as he picked up the rope.

"Wait," Allie spoke up. "We first have to stop by the room where Frodo was first imprisoned."

"It is on the ground floor," Pippin added.

Hunter tried hard to hide his dismay. "Why? If we go down there, we will never make it out alive!"

"The Ring is there," Frodo spoke softly.

Hunter froze. "And you are only telling me this now?" His hand tightened around the hobbit's trunk in furious disbelief.

Allie placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "We must go get it. We will think of a way to escape afterwards."

Hunter glared at them all but did not say another word as he left the cellar room and walked back to the stairs. Allie and Pippin exchanged a look before following after him.

Once they reached ground level, they hid behind the pillar of the staircase and watched the heavy doors of Barad-Dur standing at the other end of the wide hall. Guards were seated around two round tables, drinking and chattering loudly. In the opposite direction ran a narrower hallway where the prisoners' cells were.

"Someone must distract the guards if the rest of us are to sneak through," Pippin murmured.

"I will do it," Hunter decided. "I have been dying to kill these vermin ever since I set foot here. One kill is not enough to stench the thirst of my blood."

Allie's grey eyes assessed the Orcs pensively. "Very well. I will carry Frodo and bring him to the cells."

Hunter's jaw was still clenched in anger, but he did not question her. Allie bent forward and Hunter helped settle Frodo onto her back. Frodo passed his arms around her neck as she supported his thighs with both hands. "I'm sorry for this," he whispered to her.

Allie simply smiled. "Once all of this is over, you will owe me a piggy-back ride. Now hold on tight. I will have to run."

Deep inside, her heart was aching at how light he had become. How much weight had he had lost ever since they had been captured? She did not remember the last time either of them ate anything.

"I will come with you," Pippin decided.

"No. You have to help Hunter with the Orcs."

"I am not leaving your side again," he argued stubbornly. "First you send me away to join the Fellowship, and then you send me running after Merry and Sam, but I am _your_ Protector. I will not leave your side anymore, no matter what you may say."

Allie read only stubbornness in his green eyes. Finally, she relented to his request with a sigh. Pippin's face lit up with a smile.

Allie then turned to Hunter. "Try to get the doors of Barad-Dur to open. We will make them think we are trying to escape from there. But instead we will go up one floor from that smaller staircase there, closer to the cells. Then, we will use the rope to escape from a higher window, like you had previously planned. Hunter, you must keep their attention on the doors at all costs."

Hunter nodded gravely.

Allie looked at him one last time and added: "No matter what, do not die."

"Yes, Queen."

Without a second look, he walked out into the open from behind the pillar. Since it was not abnormal to see a Haradrim within Barad-Dur, few initially paid him any attention until he stopped in front of the Orcs guarding the door.

"No one goes outside," an Orc grumbled.

"I'm not going anywhere," Hunter retorted harshly as he leaned forward, unsheathed the sword from the Orc's belt and pulled back, all in one fluid movement. Before the expression of astonishment on the Orc's face could abate, his head was already rolling at Hunter's feet.

There was a moment of shocked silence as the sounds of chatter and laughter died down, and dozens of pairs of blood-shot eyes fixed onto the dark Southron. Hunter looked around with a savage grin on his face. He made a beckoning motion towards the circle of Orcs around him. "Well? What are you waiting for, you scum?"

Letting out a bloodthirsty gurgle, the first Orc charged at him with his sword.

Pippin and Allie, carrying Frodo on her back, chose this moment to swiftly leave the protection of the pillar to rush down the narrow hallway at the other end of the hall as fast as they could. They did not turn around to see whether they were followed, merely concentrating on getting by as silently as possible. The wails that arose from some of cells soon overwhelmed their ears and enveloped the space around them. The hobbits looked around, but all the cell doors looked the same.

Frodo, however, tightened his hold around Allie's neck as he took in the familiarity of the hallway. After they had passed four doors, he silently pointed to the fifth.

Pippin kicked the door open and they quickly slid inside.

A large pool of dried blood lay in the center of the room, and there were bloody smears on the walls. Allie's breath caught in her throat at the terrible sight. She could not imagine what Frodo must have endured all alone in this dark cell. She felt him shivering slightly against her back, and tears swirled up in her eyes again. But she forced herself to simply ask: "Where is it?"

"There," Frodo pointed down. "The floor here is made of rocks because we are at ground level. Some of the rocks are loose and can be ripped out, although with some difficulty. You see that small rock there?"

Pippin snatched his eyes away from the all the blood and quickly went to where Frodo described. He crouched down beside a piece of rock that seemed solidly anchored to the rest.

"Pull on it," Frodo advised. "It will come out."

Pippin grasped it tightly and pulled as hard as he could. The rock came out, revealing brown dirt underneath.

"That's good. Now dig into the ground. I buried it there."

Pippin started digging with two fingers, for the space was narrow. Allie posted herself outside the cell, surveying the hallway.

"They are coming. Hurry," she whispered when she caught the sound of footsteps.

Pippin dug more frantically, and finally a shimmer of gold appeared. He let out a little cry of excitement and pinched it in between his fingers.

Allie turned to look at him. "You have it? Bring it over! We have to fight now."

Pippin stood up and quickly strutted towards the door of the cell, holding the Ring in his fist. Suddenly, he stumbled and barely caught himself against the nearby wall. His hand holding the Ring started shaking. He let out a whimper and scrambled to Allie and Frodo. Frodo held Pippin's arm to stabilize him with worry in his eyes.

"What is wrong?"

"Quickly! Take it!" Pippin hissed as he rammed the Ring inside Frodo's hand. Then, he leaned away and threw up violently.

"Pippin!" Allie exclaimed, before feeling the whispers of Ring crawling like spiders on her skin. Her arms started trembling around Frodo's legs.

"It's calling out to them," she sputtered. "It can sense the proximity of its Master."

Frodo quickly inserted it into the pocket of his trouser as the first Orcs appeared in sight at the opposite end of the narrow hallway. Pippin wiped at his mouth and staggered in front of Allie and Frodo.

"Can you fight?" Frodo inquired worriedly.

One side of Pippin's mouth drew up in a sardonic smile. "We fight, or we die."

He then charged head first into the group of Orcs. He slid underneath the feet of the first Orc, tripping him as he passed by. As the Orc fell, he snatched the sword from his limp hand and drove it into his back. He quickly pulled it out and swung it in an arc around him, cutting off the sword limb of another Orc.

Allie appraised the situation urgently. She turned back a little to speak to Frodo: "Hold on to me tight. Don't let go, no matter what."

"What are you..."

Before he could finish his question, he felt her body hardening and shifting under his very hands! Her hair spread out around her, covering her body, and her shoulders and neck enlarged under his hands. He gripped her undulating hair with all his strength, feeling as though he was riding on top of a horse made of undulating waves. Just when he thought he would fall, he found himself lying atop the golden wolf with his hands clenched deeply around patches of fur. The scars from the Uruk's whip were still visible on her back and flanks, rosy lines crisscrossing each other in heinous patterns.

The Orcs blocking the hallway cried in panic as Allie leapt into their ranks. Frodo held on tight as Orc blood spurted in front of his eyes and gurgling screams assaulted his eardrums. Pippin fell back and vomited liquid out of his mouth again.

Frodo's legs started bleeding through his bandages as he pressed them against the wolf's flanks. Refusing to think about it, he clenched his jaw and unsheathed Sting instead. However, as he looked around them, he saw that all the Orcs were dead already and lying in a ring of corpses around them.

"Go! Try to make it to the second floor!" Pippin urged.

Allie's silver eyes appraised him worriedly, but Pippin just nodded. "I will follow after you."

There was no time for hesitation. Carrying Frodo, she sprung down the narrow hallway, past the doors with their tortured cries, and finally onto the stairs. She had a second to peer towards the doors of Barad-Dur to see Hunter striking at his enemies with his back pressed against a corner of the room.

She looked back at Pippin and saw him staggering after her. She was about to engage up the stairs when Pippin suddenly collapsed on all fours.

"Pippin!"

"I feel... I feel..." he could not continue.

Fangs suddenly grew in his mouth, muscles rippled on his back and his limbs bulged out like balloons under his clothes. And then, with a tortured howl he transformed back into his wolf self.

At the same time, the doors of Barad-Dur were pushed open from the outside and new Orcs poured through, following after the Orc with the metal arm attached to his shoulder. "Kill the intruder!" the latter ordered with a booming voice, before charging towards Hunter with a swing of his giant lance.

Hunter bellowed in pain when the lance slashed open his chest.

"_Pippin!_" Allie urged.

"_No!_" Pippin's green eyes were shining in anger and desperation. "_I am following you this time!"_

_"You are not just my Protector, Pippin. You are the Protector of this pack. I will be fine by myself, but Hunter cannot fight them all by himself! You will be more useful going to him!"_

Pippin looked at her with torn eyes. Finally, he picked up the roll of the rope with his jaw and handed it to Frodo.

Allie smiled at him sadly. "_Thank you, Pippin."_

"_This is not farewell!"_ he growled fiercely. _"I will be right behind you after I get Hunter out of there."_

Then, the auburn wolf turned tails and sprung towards the doors of Barad-Dur.

Frodo froze when he saw the light of the Eye filtering into the hallway through the now open door, casting shadows of fire and blood on the scenes of battle below.

Allie saw it too and hurried up the steps towards the second floor. The hallway was dark and quiet as of now. The wolf quickly ran to a window looking down on the barren planes of Gorgoroth. Frodo slid off her back and landed by her side with a grunt. It took Allie more effort than usual to switch back to her hobbit self, but she did it. Then, she took the rope from Frodo's hand and started wrapping one end of it around a metal pinnacle jutting from the side of the window. The cold ashen wind of Mordor blew her hair against her face, and she had to stop several times to push it out of her eyes, all the while cursing under her breath.

When she was done, she quickly helped Frodo to the window and told him to hold onto the rope.

"Where do you think you are going?" a harsh grunt suddenly resounded behind their backs.

Allie twirled around in a panic, her eyes meeting those of Baadash, still panting from his climb. "You cannot escape me. You are my prize," he hissed as he slowly bit off his glove, revealing the red shimmer of Serecor on his finger.

Allie's heart skipped a beat. She turned towards Frodo, her eyes wide with panic and urgency. "Grab the rope and go!"

"What? No!" Frodo replied, eyeing her in shock.

"Go now! Get away from me as fast as you can! Please! I don't have time to ex..."

"Shut up!" Baadash roared.

Allie gripped her throat as her vocal chords were cut off. She stared at Frodo in a frenzy and pushed him towards the window. Frodo suddenly remembered the way Baadash had made her freeze in space when she was going to finish him off in the round chamber. His eyes glided to the red ring around his finger, and he understood.

He stood up on his bandaged legs with a grimace and screamed with all his strength as he charged towards Baadash with Sting in both hands. The Uruk sneered, and articulated a single word: "Transform."

Allie watched, helpless, as her body turned into that of a wolf.

Baadash grinned. "Attack the Halfling."

"_No!"_ Allie screamed silently as her wolf body lunged forward.

* * *

Hello dear readers. Yes, I realize I ended it on a cliffhanger, but hey, it's already almost 11k words, so I had to cut it somewhere. The fact that this chapter is here is actually a miracle. I don't remember how many times I had to re-write because I was never satisfied with it. But now I'm finally done with it (phew!), so it's up to you to judge whether it's good or not XD.

**Mallory:** Hey! As always, it is so good to hear from you! Reading your reviews invariably puts a big smile on my face, so thank you for that :D Knowing that people like you follow this story is a huge incentive for me to keep writing it, especially when life is particularly busy. Actually, I did not intentionally turn Sam into a "pansy" (lol), so I'm sorry that his character came off this way. In fact, I wanted to make his character darker and more antagonistic, instead of being the loyal, pure-hearted person that he is in the canonical version. I wanted him to be the kind of person who voices out the very realistic difficulties that our main couple has a face, to make them realize that love will not necessarily solve everything. In a way, he is doing it for Frodo's sake, so that his Master does not get hurt in the future, but obviously Frodo will not really listen to him in that regard. Now though, Sam's role will become more important ;) He was a hero in the original version, and I want to keep him that way in my story too, in spite of his conflicting emotions from earlier on. I hope that will reassure you, lol.  
Yeah, Allie is already an interesting character to portray. You are right that her faults just keep her character real. I didn't want the main female character to be this perfect heroine who will solve everything for our canon characters. Sometimes, she will be the source of the disaster instead.  
Omg, thanks for pointing out "squandering". Yes, scrambling is what I meant XD. Yeah, I used to write a lot in French before. Sometimes I still need to use the online French-English translator to find the words I'm looking for. But I think my level of French writing has deteriorated since I started writing in English, so I need to practice it some more. At least that's what I say, but I know I won't have time for that -sigh- Anyway, thanks for reading once again! And I hope to hear from you soon! Take care :)

**Guest:** Hello anonymous reader! Thanks for leaving a comment! :) I hope you liked this chapter :D


	44. The Lord of the Ring

**The Lord of the Ring**

Sam, hidden behind a cutting boulder, looked down upon the fires and desolation of Mordor. A shuffling sound behind him told him of the presence of his unlikely companion.

Initially, Sam had thought Gollum would betray him and kill him in his sleep, and so he had watched him with care, even when Gollum was too sick to even keep his eyes open. But then, the hobbit had lessened up on his suspicions. Gollum had nothing to gain by killing him. His goal was to recover the Ring, and Sam's Elven herbs were his only chance of staying alive until he could accomplish that goal.

Gollum had at first been appalled at the herbs' Elvish origins. When Sam first applied some of it on his stump, he had wailed so loudly that the gardener had been scared it had alerted all the Orcs of Mordor. He had made it clear to Gollum that if he so much as made another sound, their deal would be off. That had somehow cooled down the creature's loud outspoken disgust at the feeling of the herbs on his wound.

They had walked for three days before reaching the hidden stairs of Minas Morgul. After climbing the last step, Sam's relief at not having fallen to his death was short-lived when he smelled the pungent odors coming from the tunnel they were supposed to cross.

After much questioning and threatening, Sam finally got Gollum to tell him of the nature of the monster living in the tunnels. "A giant spider, just my luck!" Sam had thought to himself. However, Gollum also volunteered a piece of information concerning the spider's weak spot: "It's under her bellisses, yess my Precious…"

With Gollum's guidance, Sam had hoped to cross the tunnels without encountering the spider. However, as of late, Gollum could not seem to stop the low whine that was always seeping through his throat. His stump wasn't healing very nicely, and he would often stop and lick at it with a bitter face like a wounded animal. And all the while, he would whine in a hissing tone that was about to render Sam insane.

It was one of those cries that attracted Shelob's attention on them as they navigated through the thick cobwebs of her lair. Sam and Gollum managed, however, to escape to an open space. To this day, Sam still did not know how he had survived the one-on-one fight with the spider that had ensued.

His mind had simply gone blank as he dodged her poisonous sting over and over again, while at the same time trying to fight her off with his short sword.

Gollum hadn't been of much help, hiding behind a rock and whimpering in fear with his head under his arms. But then, Sam had managed to slash his sword into her belly not once, but twice. As green liquid poured out of the mortal wound, Shelob had shuddered, and then had fallen immobile as her legs stiffened underneath her in death.

Sam had crawled out from under her belly, drenched in spider blood and still unable to believe he had just defeated such a creature.

He thought the spider would be the last hurdle standing between him and Mordor, but then he saw the Watch Tower filled with Orcs standing right outside her lair. Fortunately, Gollum told him he knew a secret way around the Tower so that they would not be seen from above.

Sam was relieved, but kept his guard up nonetheless.

And now, he and Gollum were finally laying eyes on the plains of Gorgoroth stretching into miles and miles of desolation down from their hiding place, to as far as the eye could see. Below them, dark Orc figures moved about, more than he could count. Among the Orcs also marched tall dark Men from the South, with their faces hidden behind their black scarves. Behind the Men, giant beasts stamped past ominously, their tusks illuminated by the fires of Mordor.

"Oliphants," Gollum spat out in distaste.

"Those poor beasts do not belong here," Sam muttered under his breath.

Gollum hissed softly behind him. Sam turned around, watching him carefully. "What are you displeased about? We've gotten so far already."

Gollum threw him a murderous look. "And this is as far as we will go… Gollum! Gollum! So many Orcses… " He lifted his head up to scan the skies. "And the winged beasts… the skies are too dark to see them… but they are up there. Up there!"

He started whimpering again as he rubbed his head with his only hand. Sam eyed his stump; there was still pus oozing from it. Either the Elven herbs were not working, or Gollum's body was simply rejecting them.

When he crossed Gollum's eyes again, he saw a glint in there that he did not like at all. Gollum caressed his infected arm and leaned in close to Sam. "Fat hobbit would not lie… would he? He promised he'd heal us if we led him into Mordor… and led him we did…!"

"Yes, you did," Sam admitted. "And I am never one to tell lies, not even to stinkers like you. These herbs are true healing herbs." He looked away and finished: "Just be patient."

Now that he was finally in Mordor, he needed to lose Gollum somehow if he could. Gollum would only become a threat and a hindrance if he ever really did find Mr. Frodo among all these enemies. And that was hoping that his Master was still alive.

Sam shook his head. Thinking too much was unlike him. He should just act, and hope for the best, and maybe some luck would be on his side.

The tower of Barad-Dur and Mount Doom stood as two looming figures at the end of the plain. His destination was the Tower.

He was about to slide out of his hiding place when he realized there was a flow to the Orcs' movements down below.

"They are all heading towards the Tower…" he whispered to himself.

In the distance, what seemed like giant birds were flying around and below the Eye of Sauron, screeching. Sam knew that those were no birds at all, but the Ringwraiths answering to the call of their Master.

"It looks like trouble is brewing," he muttered again before sliding down the slope.

He heard Gollum scrambling down after him, and eyed the rocks around him. What if he just smashed the creature's head? For some reason, he could not bring himself to do that. Sighing at his own foolishness, he started gliding from one rock to another, following after the Orcs and the Men marching towards the Tower.

He had been going quite a distance already and was thinking that some luck was finally on his side, when Gollum let out a piercing wail behind him. Scrambling into a ditch, he peered out and saw a Haradrim scout lifting Gollum up by the neck.

"What is this?" the warrior spoke harshly.

The earth trembled as an Oliphant stopped right beside the ditch where Sam was hiding. Sam eyed the wrinkles in the beast's leg in awe and horror.

"Repugnant creature," the Haradrim scrunched up his nose at the smell of infection coming from Gollum's stump. "Are you by yourself? Speak!"

Gollum wailed again when the point of a lance was pressed against his chest.

Gollum's globular eyes swept around the background and found those of Sam. Sam recoiled further inside the ditch. Seeing this, Gollum's eyes filled up with hatred, and opening his mouth wide, he screamed in direction of the gardener.

The Haradrim followed his gaze and saw Sam's face peeking back from the ditch. "There!"

A ladder was thrown down from the cage on top of the Oliphant's back as more warriors sauntered down. Sam climbed out of the ditch, his heart hammering in his chest, and started running around the Oliphant as his pursuers gave him chase.

He sneaked beneath the belly of the Oliphant as the Southrons bent down and tried to slash him with their lances. One of their strokes cut open the Oliphant's hind leg, and the latter recoiled brusquely with a cry of pain. The motion sent two warriors to the ground, as the third one jumped to move out of the way.

Sam dived away just in the time before one of the beast's legs could reduce him to a mound of jelly. Suddenly, he saw the ladder leading up onto the Oliphant's back flapping in front of his face, and without thinking, he grabbed it and started climbing.

The Southrons cursed as they seized the ladder and went after him. Sam kicked one in the face to send him flying back down. He climbed the last steps and was relieved to see that there was no one at the reins. Behind him, the Southrons have started climbing again. Sam unsheathed his short sword and started hacking away at the ropes of the ladder. A Southron was about to reach him when the ladder finally gave way, sending all his pursuers to the ground.

"Kill him, you idiots!" the Haradrim who was holding onto Gollum shouted.

A Southron put an arrow on his bow and shot it. Sam jumped into the cage as the arrow planted itself on the spot he was standing a second ago. More arrows flew up at him, one grazing his arm.

Another arrow planted itself on the Oliphant's neck. Letting out a wild cry, the beast stood up on its rear legs and charged away into the plains.

Sam screamed and almost bounced off the Oliphant's back had he not taken hold of the reins.

Behind him, the Southrons shouted as they gave chase, but the Oliphant soon left them in a cloud of dust. Looking ahead, Sam saw the lines of Orcs scattering away noisily as his mount charged through their ranks.

Sam pulled on the left rein as hard as he could with both hands and with his body weight, screaming: "Go left! Left!"

Finally, the Oliphant's head deviated left, heading towards the black tower of Barad-Dur.

* * *

Allie watched in horror as her wolf body threw itself at Frodo's figure. Her claw ripped off his cloak and made a scratch on the mithril shirt he wore underneath. Both hobbit and wolf then collided against the wall opposite the window.

Baadash's shadow loomed over them as his laughter filled the empty hall.

Allie saw Frodo panting painfully with a hand pressed to his chest, and then her eyes zoomed in on the vein on the side of his neck, pulsating with his heart beat. She could feel the will of the Blood Ring commanding her to rip his throat open, but by sheer power of will, she stayed with her head retracted.

Frodo climbed back on his feet, not letting go of Sting. He eyed Allie frantically, and then eyed the window.

The Uruk raised his hand and showed them the Blood Ring wrapped around his index. "You are my prize, Glor Bereth. All you need to do is to kill that nuisance, and your new life can start. A life of servitude under the great Baadash! I shall be feared as the best Wolf-Rider of Isengard!"

Allie eyed the rope still hanging outside the long window. She saw that Frodo was looking at it as well.

Baadash made a fist with his hand and uttered the next order: "Rip the Halfling to pieces!"

Frodo dashed towards the window with all his strength. Allie managed to hold still for a second more before she leapt after him with a howl. She tried her hardest to slow down, forcing her legs to stop running, but it was as though invisible strings were attached to every hair of her body and a giant puppet master was pulling the strings.

A second before her teeth closed on Frodo's shirt, the latter jumped out of the window and gripped onto the rope, swinging wildly in the air. He let go a bit and slid down the rope, wincing as the rough texture cut into his palms. However, the rope was short and did not reach the ground underneath. When he reached the very bottom, he tightened his fingers around the last knot and stopped his descent abruptly, letting his legs dangle in the void. He looked down, and saw that he was still quite a distance from the ground. If he let go and fell, he would break his spine.

Looking up, he saw the golden wolf framed in the narrow window. Baadash appeared at her side, grinning savagely. He popped out a small knife from his pocket and started cutting down the rope. The wolf gnarled at him silently, unable to move a muscle.

Frodo clenched his teeth in hopeless rage.

Even if he did survive the fall, Baadash would send Allie after him again. He could not see an exit to their hopeless situation. Was this his end? His heart drummed painfully at this perspective.

He crossed the wolf's silver eyes anxiously, but Allie suddenly broke eye contact and looked beyond him into the distance.

Did she think it was hopeless as well? If Allie had given up, it really must mean that this was the end. But then, a thought stroke him: Allie would never look away in his last moments. He knew her well enough to be certain of this.

Suddenly, a loud stomping noise filled his ears, resembling that of a giant creature's feet paddling on the ground.

"Mr. Frodo!" he heard a familiar voice call out from below.

Frodo didn't have the time to be surprised before the last threads of the rope snapped, throwing him into a free fall. As he looked down, he saw Sam's familiar face rushing towards him, closer and faster, until their bodies collided together. Panting, he gathered himself up as he felt the ground moving beneath him.

Except that it was not the ground at all. Sam and he were riding on top of a moving Oliphant!

Sam gathered the thick reins with both hands and tried to haul the Oliphant to a stop, but to no avail.

"Hang on tight, Mr. Frodo! The beast is no longer listening to reason!"

Frodo seized one of the sides of the cage on top of the Oliphant as the latter circled around Barad-dur and headed towards the front gate. Frodo's eyes widened. "We can't go over there!"

His hand plunged inside his pocket to make sure the Ring was still there.

Again, Sam tried to make the Oliphant change trajectory. However, the beast let out a loud trumpeting sound and shook his giant head, almost throwing Sam off the saddle.

Soon, the main entrance of Barad-Dur appeared in sight. The two hobbits saw a battle taking place on its threshold. Orcs were trying to enter, but they were being held back by a tall Southron and an auburn wolf.

"That's Hunter and Pippin!" Frodo exclaimed.

Sam gritted his teeth. "If we are heading there anyway, let us make an appropriate entrance. Can I borrow your sword, Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo blinked for a second in confusion, before handing over Sting that he was still clinging in one hand. Sam took up the sword and plunged the blade into the Oliphant's neck on the left side. The beast let out a loud cry of pain before deviating leftward towards the mass of Orcs assembled in front of the main doors of Barad-dur.

Frodo shied back into the shadow of the saddle as the light of the Great Eye fell upon the advancing Oliphant. The Orcs on the ground also looked up with bloodshot eyes just in the time to be stamped to death by the column-sized legs of the beast.

Sam let out a cheer that Frodo did not echo. As the Ring-bearer lifted his eyes to the skies, he saw the Nazgul diving down towards them. He clutched the Ring inside his pocket and tried to make himself as small as possible as the piercing screech enveloped them.

At the doors, thanks to the respite caused by the Oliphant's stampede, Hunter found an opening to run towards Pippin and to jump onto his back. The auburn wolf dashed through the gap in the lines of the Orcs and broke free from the noose of death they had been fighting in.

Sam let go of the reins to cover his ears as the Nazgul let out their scream again. The Oliphant, mad with terror, crashed against the side of the Tower, but did not go down. With a wild cry, it destroyed part of Barad-Dur with its tusk before deviating north into the emptiness of the plains. Orcs shot arrows and threw spears at it from below, but the beast continued its run.

Giving up all hopes of controlling the beast, Sam clung to the saddle and focused on not getting bounced off by its galloping strides.

Frodo looked up and saw the Nazgul chasing after them in the skies. Suddenly, the Oliphant tripped and almost went down nose first. Sam looked down and paled. "M-Mr. Frodo…" he stuttered as he pointed at the hind leg of the Oliphant.

Frodo directed his gaze there and saw Baadash riding on top of the golden wolf. He had his spiked whip around the Oliphant's leg and it was sinking deeper into flesh with each of the Oliphant's steps.

"That damn Uruk…" Frodo muttered in fury.

How dare he ride on top of Allie like that? If only he could get that Blood Ring away from him…

Baadash pulled harder on the whip and the Oliphant tripped again. This time, however, it lost its balance and went crashing into a boulder. Frodo and Sam clung to the ropes for dear life as the beast toppled over and fell on its side like a mountain.

Sam crawled out from underneath the saddle, coughing at the dust. Frodo did the same beside him, and pulled out Sting that was still planted in the neck of the beast.

Golden paws stopped in front of them; looking up, they saw Baadash grinning down on them from Allie's back.

"Get off her!" Frodo yelled, his blue eyes blazing.

Baadash let out a guttural laugh. "You should worry more about yourself, Halfling. Do you not know death when you face it?"

At this moment, Pippin's auburn shape collided against Allie's flank, sending both wolf and Uruk rolling on the ground. Hunter jumped down from Pippin's back and lifted his blood streaked long-sword.

"What have you done to Queen, you despicable scum?" he roared in cold anger.

Pippin bared his fangs and growled silently.

Baadash stood up slowly, caressing Serecor on his finger. "Interesting. Very interesting. I have heard of the dominance of a Queen over her subjects. Shall we see that in action?" He kicked Allie towards Hunter and Pippin. "Kill them!"

The golden wolf leapt forward with despair in her eyes. _"Run away, Pippin!"_

The auburn wolf took on a defensive stance with all fours spread out and belly close to the ground. _"Not a chance, Allie. I'd rather fight you and die than leave you here bound to that Uruk-hai!"_

"_No! The Blood hierarchy will not allow you to win!"_

Allie reached Pippin and pinned him to the ground with her claws. Hunter raised his sword beside her, but was unable to strike.

Frodo nudged Sam and pointed silently to Baadash, who was enjoying the scene. Sam understood Frodo's meaning, and quietly picked up a rock. They edged along the flank of the fallen Oliphant and slowly slid closer to the Uruk.

However, before they could make their move, thousands of footsteps rose around them as Sauron's Orc army closed in on them. On the sky, three Nazguls cast their shadows on the scene below as they circled past. Sam dropped his rock and covered his ears when they let out their soul-splitting screech.

"It's all over, Mr. Frodo!" he winced. "We will be caught!"

"No!" Frodo seethed. He couldn't allow them to be brought back to that horrible place again. His legs hurt at the mere memory of the small rusty knife peeling off his skin.

He threw a glance at Allie, and saw her dominating Pippin with the Blood. Pippin let out a wail as blood started running out of his nostrils due to the pressure of Allie's will.

Allie shot a sidelong glance at Hunter. He was still under the influence of the Ent Water, so she could not communicate with him, but she hoped that he would understand her message. _"Strike me!"_ her eyes pleaded. _"Use your sword, Hunter!" _

Hunter's eye widened, and he gripped the hilt of his sword till his knuckles turned white.

Baadash's laughter resonated around them as Serecor shone on his finger, red as blood.

"Forgive me, Queen!" Hunter roared as he lifted his sword to strike. At that moment, one of the Nazgul dived down and snatched Hunter off the ground and into the sky.

"_Hunter!"_ Allie screamed.

The Nazgul flew higher and higher, and Frodo had the dark certitude that the Ringwraith had the intention of dropping him from the heights. Even Hunter would not survive a fall like that; his bones would break like glass.

Orcs poured through from behind the dead Oliphant and charged towards Frodo and Sam. Frodo charged back at them with Sting, killing them off one by one as they approached.

Sam picked up small rocks and threw them at the Orcs, having lost his own sword on the mad dash on top of the Oliphant. The rocks, however, did nothing to slow down the Orcs, who soon encircled him.

"Sam!" Frodo cried, and then broke through the circle, swinging, cutting, and slashing like he had often done in practice with Allie. Except that now, it had all become so terrifyingly real.

In the meantime, Pippin was choking from the blood bubbling out of his jaw. "_Pippin! No!"_ Allie cried out as she tried her hardest to stop projecting her will onto him.

"_Allie…"_ Pippin croaked. _"Please…"_

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam shouted in anguish beside them.

The golden wolf forced herself to look sideways and saw that an Orc had managed to disarm Frodo, who was now vulnerably sprawled down on the ground with a fresh cut on his arm.

The Orc who had injured him stepped forward and lifted his sword for the finishing blow.

"_FRODO!"_ Allie shrieked.

In that moment of despair, her sight turned to black, and she lost consciousness for a second. When she opened her eyes again, she suddenly found herself standing between the Orc and Frodo. She did not have time to be surprised before a gaping wound opened up on her neck from the sword of the Orc.

Behind her, Frodo looked up in shock with his face half red from the blood that had spattered from the wolf's wound.

Allie regained her senses and bit off the head of the Orc who had attacked her. Once her enemy crumbled to the ground, a deep ache and a terrible weakness overcame her as she crumbled on her side. Frodo crawled beside her and frantically pressed his hand on her wound to stop the bleeding, but to no avail. His eyes were frantic, but he did not know what else to do.

Baadash took a step forward in disbelief. How had she broken free? The dominance he had over her should have been complete! He stared down at the Blood Ring, and then made a fist again.

"Stand up!" he roared towards the golden wolf.

Satisfaction returned to his eyes when the wolf slowly stumbled up on her legs.

"Stop it! You will kill her!" Frodo yelled.

"Shut your trap!" Baadash screamed back furiously. And then to Allie: "You worthless beast! Kill him! Kill him already!"

Slowly, Allie turned towards Frodo. _"Stop me,"_ her eyes begged, and then: "_Kill me!"_

Frodo took a step back in horror. "No!"

A new wave of Orcs rushed towards them again. Sam called out Frodo's name as he picked up Sting off the ground and tried to fend them off.

Frodo took another step back from Allie when his fingers brushed against the Ring in his pocket.

_Ash nazg durbatuluk _

Allie's body shook and she collapsed again, only to slowly stand back up when Baadash ordered it with the Blood Ring.

_Ash nazg gimbatul _

Frodo's eyes travelled from Allie's wound, to Pippin panting weakly on the ground, to Sam fending off the Orcs all by himself. He looked up at the Great Eye and at the Nazgul about to let go of Hunter. They were surrounded.

_Ash nazg thrakatuluk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul_

In that instant, he knew that all was lost. The Orcs and Nazgul would kill them; they would find the Ring among their dessicated remains, and Sauron would plunge all of Middle-earth into the darkness.

The Ring was tugging at his mind, whispering dark and tempting words.

His friends and faithful companions were so close to dying a meaningless death in this desolate place, so far from all that was green and beautiful. If he couldn't save Middle-earth, could he at least save them from this fate? Could he give them a little more time to live, even if it meant living under Sauron's terror?

All sounds faded around him as he took the Ring out of his pocket.

He met Allie's horrified glance, and for a second, he thought he could hear her voice screaming: _"What are you doing, Frodo?", _before the whispers of the Ring took over in his mind. He gave Allie a small and tired smile, and then vanished as he slid the Ring upon his finger.

On top of Barad-dur, Sauron's flaming eye widened, his dark pupil dilating to fill the entire eye. The Nazguls froze in mid-air, and the Orcs stopped in their advance. Sauron's dark whispers filled the air urgently, enveloping them all in the cursed Black Speech of Mordor.

The whispers of the Ring answered back.

And then Sauron saw him: the Halfling standing beside the fallen Oliphant, with the One Ring shining on his finger. Frodo looked back at the Lord of the Ring, sitting on top of his dark Tower.

"Frodo Baggins…" Sauron whispered. "I have found you."

Frodo cowered an instant under his gaze, but then stood straight again. "The Ring is mine now, and I will use it as I will!"

Dark laughter enveloped him. "Do you think you can overpower my will and the will of the One Ring?"

For only answer, Frodo snatched his eyes away from Sauron's Eye to look up into the smoky and wavering skies, where white spectres flew past on the back of dead creatures. He searched for the Witch-King of Angmar, and found him straight above his head, still holding onto Hunter.

Frodo raised his fist with the Ring shining blindingly on his finger.

"Come back down with the Southron!" he commanded.

The Witch King let out a hollow laugh. "You cannot order me, Halfling."

Sauron's dark whispers filled up Frodo's head, making him drop to his knees. Still, with an enormous effort that took all the energy he had left, he raised his eyes to the Witch King once more and commanded in a voice that filled up the spectre world: "By this Ring, I command you to come back down!"

The Ring shone and the smile faded from the Witch King's pale face. The air sizzled with the clash of their two wills. Frodo's chest felt stuffy, and black spots started dancing in front of his eyes, but slowly, as though pulled down by a string, the Nazgul started descending down towards the ground as Hunter shouted angry words and slashed his sword uselessly from the beast's claws.

As the Nazgul got closer to the ground, Hunter suddenly sensed the waves of evil magic from the Ring of Power. He convulsed in the claws of the creature, and then transformed back into his wolf self with a howl of pain.

Frodo clutched at his heart as he kept up his command.

Sauron's voice filled up his head once more: "I commend you for submitting the one of the Nine, Frodo Baggins, but only one can be the Lord of the Rings. Only one."

The Ring started burning his hand, and then a dark shadow sprung out of the Eye and rushed towards him.

Frodo screamed as his consciousness was shattered. The Witch King shook his head and started to regain altitude once more. However, Hunter bit off the claw of the dark beast with a single snap of his fangs. Dark blood flowed as the Nazgul let go of him. Hunter's grey shape twirled in the air, before landing heavily onto the ground.

Sam backed away from the Orcs when he heard the agonizing scream of his Master. Frodo was still invisible, but Sam followed his scream and dropped down on his knees next to the spot where Frodo was convulsing on the ground.

The Witch King landed in front of Sam on the back of his winged beast. Sam tried to drag Frodo's invisible body away, but one slap from the wing of the beast sent him flying against the flank of the dead Oliphant.

Frodo was suddenly spread out on the ground as though by an invisible hand. The pressure on his chest was so great that he was unable to draw a breath. Soon, the lack of oxygen made his vision blur and his head turn.

"Take it," the voice of Sauron commanded.

The spectral hand of the Witch King extended down towards the hobbit, and the One Ring pulled up Frodo's hand, trying to reach the Ringwraith. Frodo tried to hold his arm down with his other hand, but it was no use. He screamed in agony when the icy fingers of the Witch King brushed against his hand before slowly sliding the Ring off his finger.

A tremor of dark excitement washed over the land as Sauron's eye seemed to gain in size.

"No… please…" Frodo managed to make out as he became visible again.

Hunter picked himself up off the ground and rushed towards the winged beast, but the latter snapped at him with its enormous teeth and forced him back again.

"What of the Halfling?" The Witch King asked.

"The others will dispose of him. Bring me the Ring!" came Sauron's ecstatic reply.

As the Witch King took flight towards Barad-dur with the Ring, Sauron's Black Speech filled the land of Mordor, no longer a whisper, but now loud and powerful: "A new age has started; the age of darkness, the age of fear! There will be no more light or hope in Middle-earth. Orcs, Goblins, and Trolls, creatures of darkness, my sons, it is now your time to live on the surface, unafraid. We will annihilate those who oppose us and rule this Middle-earth with death! It will start with the world of Men. Long enough have they defied us and resisted us. They will fall, and fall hard."

A loud and savage clamor rose from Mordor at those words.

Frodo lied there, catatonic, as he watched another Ringwraith loom above him with sword raised. There was the sound of metal on metal, and then Sam was above him, barely blocking the cursed blade with Sting.

When he thought all was lost, a light started shining feebly from the pocket of his shirt. Slowly, with a hand that seemed to weigh like bags of lead, he took out the phial of Galadriel. The fluid inside looked sluggish, as though the star contained in it was dying along with all the hope in this world.

"_Aiya Eärendil Elenion Ancalima_!" Frodo called out with his remaining strength.

A blinding white light washed over them, like a star exploding after its life had been spent. The Orcs and the Nazgul screamed in pain, covering their eyes.

Frodo felt fangs lifting him off the ground by his collar and recognized the grey fur of Hunter. Pippin scrambled up on his feet with difficulty and seized up Sam by the collar as well.

As Hunter carried him in his jaw, Frodo saw Allie lying there on the ground and stretched a hand towards her. The wolf's silver eyes followed him till he disappeared in the white light. When he was gone, she looked towards Baadash and saw him covering his eyes like the other servants of Sauron. She crawled towards him, a dark intent to kill blazing in her eyes. However, her body failed her in this critical moment, as a black veil fell in front of her eyes and she sank into nothingness before she could reach her enemy.

###

Miles from Mordor, in the white city of Minas Tirith, soldiers looked on ominously at the lightning cracking beyond the mountains of Mordor.

Boromir, his father Denethor, and his brother Faramir walked to the walls on top of Minas Tirith to look at the darkness gathering at their doorstep.

"War is coming," Boromir stated, "There is no more time."

"Osgiliath…" Denethor hissed as he rammed his fists down on the wall in front of him. "Osgiliath needs to hold or else we are finished! Gondor is not yet ready for this war! Our numbers are too few!"

Boromir exchanged a look with Faramir, and then said: "Osgiliath is already lost. If you send Men there, it will only be a massacre."

"So be it," Denethor whispered. "We need time for all the soldiers to gather and for the weapons to be finished!"

Boromir wiped a hand across his face, and then said: "As you wish, Father. I shall get my horse ready."

Denethor whipped his head towards him and put two shaky hands on his elder son's shoulders. "But you have only just come back! No, Boromir, you stay close to me! The Men of Gondor need you as their captain. You shall lead them into war from here. Yes… the last war to save the world of Men." Looking slightly over his shoulder at Faramir, he added in a whisper: "Your brother Faramir will take care of Osgiliath. You can do at least that much, can you not?"

"Father!" Boromir protested.

"I shall not disappoint you," Faramir replied in an expressionless tone, before walking away.

###

Further to the West, on top of the dark tower of Orthanc, Saruman put down the _palantir_ and trembled slightly. "The Dark Lord and the One Ring have been reunited."

From behind him, Grima Wormtongue started wringing his hands to stop them from shaking. "W-what about Rohan, my Lord?"

The White Wizard walked to the window and looked down at the forges working day and night in the pitches of Isengard.

"The plans for war remain the same. The destruction of Rohan will be my gift of good will to my Lord."

Grima bowed and slid back into the shadows.

###

In Fangorn Forest, Councillor looked up and smelled at the air with troubled eyes. "They have failed," he whispered to himself. "Can we still be saved?"

Beside him, in the clearing, Treebeard was deep in Council with a dozen other Ents. Sensing something in the atmosphere of the forest, they all stopped talking in their low rumbling voices and stood still. Merry uncrossed his arms and looked at them all. "Have you reached a decision?"

After a long moment, Treebeard bent down close to him and, to the hobbit's dismay, Merry saw fear in the Ent's golden eyes. "I am afraid…" Treebeard started, "that the great calamity of our time has started."

Merry could only gaze back in fear and confusion.

###

On the road between Edoras and Helm's Deep, Legolas stopped his horse and looked East with a startle. Gimli stopped his horse beside his. "What is it, Legolas?"

The Elf swallowed slowly. "The shadow of the enemy has taken form."

A hand smashed down on his shoulder, making him jump. Legolas turned around to meet the piercing eyes of Aragorn. "What is it you say?" the Ranger inquired.

Legolas held his gaze for a long time, before saying: "Aragorn, I am afraid that the hobbits have failed."

"No!" Gimli exclaimed.

Aragorn himself seemed shaken.

"What shall we do now?" Legolas asked in a low voice.

At this moment, King Theoden rode up to them. "Why are we stopping? Is everything in order?"

Aragorn looked around him, at the women and children of Rohan following after them. He also met Eowyn's questioning eyes from a few meters away. "It is nothing," he said. "We should hurry on to Helm's Deep."

He exchanged a quick glance with Legolas and Gimli, and then rode on.

Legolas murmured a silent prayer in Elvish, and spurred his horse to a trot behind Aragorn's.

* * *

Frodo awoke to the sound of Sam's voice. His gardener seemed to be talking to himself like he often did when he was taking care of the flowers in Bag-End's gardens. His soothing and familiar voice drone on and on somewhere beside him, complaining of the coldness of the weather and of the lack of food. Frodo's muddled brain registered the conversation but could not attribute any sense to it. His whole body felt heavy as lead, but also fragile as glass. He felt as though he had been dismembered and then put back together again. Several times.

He tried to think, but his thoughts kept getting scattered around like butterflies in a field of flowers. He was incapable of focusing on anything. He wasn't even sure if he still knew of his own identity.

"Mr. Frodo, are you awake?" Sam's voice resounded near to him.

"Mister…Frodo…" he tasted the words on his tongue. "Frodo… Frodo Baggins… I am Frodo Baggins…"

"What are you saying Mr. Frodo? I can't hear you!"

Sluggishly, he pushed himself up on one elbow. Sam's concerned face floated into his field of vision as strong hands held him up.

"Sam…?"

Tears of joy and relief gathered in Sam's brown eyes. "That's right Mr. Frodo! It is your Sam! Thank the Lords you have finally awoken!"

"Where…" Frodo swallowed with difficulty as his empty blue eyes swept around his surroundings. An auburn wolf was lying in front of him, and a giant grey wolf was behind him. They were both looking at him with concern shining in their bright eyes.

Slowly, he lifted a hand and put it on Pippin's muzzle. Pippin licked his hand gently, his green eyes sad.

Wolves.

Mordor.

He blinked as bits and pieces of memories from before he lost consciousness started to return. As he remembered them, they started coming back faster and faster.

The Ring. The pain. The Nazgul. Sauron.

Allie.

Allie, the golden wolf, lying beside the Uruk-hai as Frodo was being lifted away by Hunter into the blinding white light.

He stood up abruptly on his feet and looked around, but he could not see her anywhere. Only him, and Sam, and the two wolves were present in this tiny ditch on the borders of the enemy's territory. Frodo tried climbing out of the ditch, but his strength failed him. Maybe Allie had gone around to scout. She had to be nearby. She could not possibly…

Pippin nudged him gently with his head, and then brushed against his hand. Slowly, Frodo looked into his green eyes, and saw the pain there.

He shook his head once, and then twice.

Gripping at the rocks and the dirt, he crawled out of the ditch on his stomach, and then stood up with the help of his knees. His frantic eyes caught sight of Mount Doom in the distance and he started running towards it on unsteady feet. He heard Sam call out his name, but his voice sounded distant and muffled. All he could clearly hear was the sound of his own heartbeat drumming in his ears.

And then a grey wall interposed itself between him and the mountain of fire. He face-planted into it and fell back onto his behind. Slowly, he looked up into the blueness of Hunter's eye. He could read pain and anger in the wolf's gaze.

"She is not dead," Sam's voice said behind him soothingly. "I don't understand exactly how it works, but when I was traveling here with Pippin, he once told me that if the Queen of the pack dies, the wolves would lose the Blood link with each other. But, Pippin and the grey one are still connected! Isn't that right, Pippin?"

The auburn wolf nodded.

However, instead of feeling relief, Frodo could not stop remembering how that Blood Ring, Serecor, had held Allie prisoner in her own body. He could not forget the torture he had endured in Barad-dur; and he could not forget the scars on her body from the hooked whip of the Uruk-hai.

Was Sam telling him that only he had escaped to leave her all alone in that hell?

Slowly, he arched his neck up towards the skies above that were darker than ever. The enemy had the Ring and Allie, while he had nothing left, not even hope.

He wanted to cry, but his eyes remained dry.

"Come on, Mr. Frodo. We have to get out of Mordor now," Sam's voice urged.

"You go ahead," Frodo replied in an undertone. "I made a promise to her that we would get out of his place together."

Sam knelt in front of him. "Please don't say that, Mr. Frodo! You will only get killed if you go back now! The enemy is more powerful than ever because they have the Ring! Our only hope is to get to Minas Tirith and alert them to the threat, if they don't know already!"

"Hope?" Frodo asked bitterly. "I don't need such a thing. I will never be able to live with myself if I turn back here. I know better than you that getting to Allie now is more impossible than destroying the Ring ever was, but I have to."

A painful knock to the head threw him harshly to the ground. Sam turned around in shock at Hunter who had just pawed Frodo in the head. Frodo slowly sat back up as a trickle of blood ran down his cheek from a fresh cut on his forehead.

"Oh my, you are bleeding!" Sam exclaimed, deterred, as he fished out his crumpled handkerchief to try and wipe the blood off.

Frodo let him fuss over him, his eyes fixed on Hunter. "Don't ever do that again," he stated coldly. "Have you forgotten that I saved your life? I did the one thing I knew I wasn't ever supposed to do, but in that moment I saved you, and Pippin, and even Sam."

But not Allie. He couldn't save Allie. And now the rest of the world was also doomed.

Frodo's hand rummaged inside his pocket out of habit, but the Ring was long gone. The feeling of loss that assaulted him made him shiver.

Sam shook Frodo by the shoulders. "And that is why you have to remain alive, Mr. Frodo! Do you think Miss Allie would be able to forgive herself if she knew you died because you foolishly dashed into the enemy's nest? We will save her, Mr. Frodo! I can promise you that! But not this way!"

Pippin nodded, his green eyes more expressive than ever, begging him to listen to Sam.

Frodo looked at all of them without seeing them. Save Allie? Was there even an infinitesimal chance of that now? Sam could only say that because he didn't know how powerful Sauron really was. When his will had clashed against that of the Dark Lord's for possession of the Ring, never had he felt so hopeless and crushed. There was something broken inside of him now; something that he knew could never be fixed again.

Frodo could see hope in Sam's eyes still. Good for him. But soon he would see how futile that would be against the darkness.

"What do you want me to do then?" he asked. "Go back to Minas Tirith and seek protection from the people that I have let down? Lay my shame and my failure at their feet and beg for forgiveness?"

Sam's shoulders sagged.

Frodo slowly stood up on his feet, refusing Sam's help. He then continued limping towards Mount Doom, barely noticing that blood was soaking through the bandages around his legs again.

Hunter considered his pitiful figure for a moment before heading towards him. Frodo sensed him come, but did not turn around; he kept limping forward with his eyes strained to the mountain of fire. Hunter looked down upon him from behind, and exchanged a glance with Pippin. If wolves could cry, Pippin would no doubt be crying at this very moment. His green eyes were shinier than usual as he gave Hunter a single nod.

"What is he going to do?" Sam whispered, before gasping as the grey wolf hit Frodo on the side of the head with his paw.

Frodo fell to the ground without a sound.

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam ran to him, panicked, and realized that his Master had been knocked unconscious.

"What did you do that for?" he shouted in direction of the grey wolf.

Hunter's blue eye remained fixed upon Frodo as he gently picked him up by the collar and deposited him onto Pippin's back. Understanding flowed over Sam's eyes as he wiped away his tears with the back of his hand.

Taking in a deep breath, he looked back at Pippin and quietly said: "Come, the secret stairs are this way. Let's get out of this foul place."

Sam then led the way, followed by the two wolves.

Behind, deep within the fortress of Barad-Dur, a giant in armor slid the One Ring onto his gloved finger and sat down on the throne made of bones. In front of him, the Mouth of Sauron knelt. "What is your first command, my Lord?"

Deep within Sauron's helmet, two eyes full of flames opened. "Gather the army at Minas Morgul" he said in Black Speech. "And announce my return to Middle-earth."

* * *

Happy New Year people! :)

And as usual, let me know what you think! Even if it's a tiny thought, I'd be happy to read it, so leave it in reviews section below! :D

And who else has gone to see the Hobbit? It was awesome returning to Middle-earth! :D Bilbo is such a cute character!

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	45. The Wolves of Rhovanion

Hello, dear readers. I know it has been literally an eternity since I last uploaded, and I'm truly sorry for that. Life got in the way, and I did not have much time for writing in the last couple of months. However, to try and make up for it, I have written a longer chapter this time.

There are also some things that I want to clear up. I have changed the status of the story to "AU" in my summary. I didn't know the meaning of it before, but after doing some research, I realized that AU applies exactly to the type of story this is. That way, people will be less confused about the amount of things that are different from canon. Obviously by now, you have noticed that I'm not following the original storyline.

That being said, enjoy the chapter! :)

* * *

**The Wolves of Rhovanion**

Allie watched the wisps of white clouds fly past the bars of her cage. All around her, she could hear the flapping of Nazgul wings mixed with the howling of the wind. Lifting up her head, she managed to delineate the black claws of the Nazgul around the roof of her cage as the beast carried it up in the air. For a second, she was tempted to transform into a wolf and attack those claws. However, she knew that if the Nazgul dropped her cage now, she would plunge down to her death some thousands of meters below. Furthermore, Baadash was beside her on a platform attached to the cage. She could see the Blood Ring shining brightly from his gloved index finger.

Baadash had never told her where they were going. When she had closed her eyes as the white light from Frodo's phial had engulfed them all, she had thought she would not open them again. However, when she did regain consciousness once more, she was already up in the air in this cage. There was mud over her neck wound, which had stopped the bleeding. For a long time, she had tried to understand why Baadash had saved her. Then, she had remembered the things he had told her before, about how she was his prize, and how he would become the best wolf-rider of Isengard.

Was that where they were heading?

She looked back to the East, thinking about Frodo and her wolves. With each flapping of the Nazgul's black wings, she was being carried farther and farther away from them.

She slowly edged closer to the bars of her cage, to where Baadash was standing. The Uruk's head snapped in her direction when he heard her shuffling steps. His bloody eyes fixed on her as he touched Serecor in warning.

"Away with you!" he snapped.

"Why are you so scared of me when you have that?" she signaled to the Ring.

Baadash plastered his ferocious face against the bars of the cage, one centimeter from hers. "I am not afraid of anyone, let alone a puppet like you!"

Allie stared back at him, her face expressionless. "What is that Ring? The Mouth of Sauron promised to tell me its back story. But, as you know, things happened."

The Uruk laughed a guttural laugh. "Things happened, yes. You and those furry friends of yours lost, that's what happened."

Allie clasped a hand to the mud on her neck. "And yet you saved me. Don't look so surprised, I know it was you. So I must still be of use to you."

Baadash fixed her intently. "My Master told me to bring you to him. But I am going to claim you as my prize and then you shall serve _me_."

Allie felt pity for him for a second. It was highly unlikely that Saruman was going to give him anything. If he persisted in being overly greedy, the Wizard would most likely kill him.

"How did you know of my kind? You were well prepared in our fight."

The Uruk laughed again. "My Master's knowledge is deep. Few things can escape his eye. He learned all about your kind from an old and dusty book of his that he keeps in his Tower. He made this Ring to counter you."

Allie's eyes widened at the same time as the Uruk frowned, realizing he had said too much. He gripped her cage and snarled: "No more talking! Away with you!"

Allie fell back, her heart thudding. She thought Sauron had made Serecor! She could have never imagined that it had been Saruman. Just how much did the White Wizard truly know about the wolves? More than she did, that was clear. She had to get that old book that the Uruk had told her about. However, with the hold that Serecor had on her, how would she ever accomplish that?

When she made the mistake of addressing the Uruk again, he used the Ring to make her transform. "Much better!" he thundered when he eyed her silent wolf shape.

That had been two days ago.

Now, Allie's legs were numb from being immobilized inside her cage. There had been nothing else to do except to think, and she had thought about everything her mind could cling onto.

She wondered what the Blood Ring really was, and how it could control her. She thought back to that event twenty years ago when she had been in search of a Protector and the Blood had made her bite Pippin. The way that the Ring controlled her seemed to work in a similar way. Could the Ring be possibly made of wolf Blood? If so, then what exactly was the Blood?

She had looked into Galadriel's mirror, hoping to find the answer, but all the mirror ever showed her was a series of misfortunes that were now coming to be her present. She tried to remember every single detail of what she had seen inside the mirror. One of the images had showed her Baadash and Serecor, and how he had used it to turn her against her allies. She still couldn't believe how close she had been to killing Pippin, her own Protector! If she had not broken through for a second due to her strong desire to protect Frodo, then she dared not think about what would have befallen Pippin.

She buried her muzzle in her forelegs and forced herself to not think of Frodo. She had to believe that he was now safe and sound after escaping from the Orcs. It was the only way to keep herself from sinking into further despair.

She forced her thoughts to return to the mirror images. The next one had been that of a battle; now that Sauron had regained the Ring, she didn't need to be an Elf to foresee that war would shortly ensue.

And the then there was that old rotting wolf chained inside a cell feeding on Orcs. Who was that wolf? Did he have any link to Serecor?

A sudden jerk pulled her out of her thoughts. Looking around, she realized that the Nazgul had now dropped her cage on top of an ivory tower.

"Welcome to Orthanc!" Baadash proclaimed next to her, grinning from ear to ear, a terrible sight to see.

Once the Nazgul had become a distant dot in the Eastern sky, Baadash opened her cage and groaned: "Finally away from those dumb Orcs and slimy beasts of Mordor."

_It is not as though you were much more intelligent or any less slimy,_ Allie thought.

"Come out and walk with me," Baadash ordered.

Allie's mind took a backseat as her body moved on its own to follow the Uruk's wishes. She followed him down a set of stairs going into the Tower. The hallways they encountered were dark, but clean, and above all else, silent. Nothing like Barad-dur, filled with the wailing of lost souls and the nasty laughter of Orcs. Here, everything was still, as though suspended in time.

The only sound came from outside the tower, from somewhere down below. It was the sound of hammer against metal and of fire sizzling. As they passed by a narrow window, the wolf peeked outside and made out a ring of grey granite all around Orthanc. Red and orange fires lit up the ground from the depth of multiple fissures that gave view into an underground forge.

Outside the barren circles, the trees of Fangorn swayed ominously in the wind.

She wondered whether Councillor was still in Fangorn Forest. If only she could communicate with him…

"Speed up!" the Uruk's harsh voice floated back from the hallway.

Her wolf legs shuffled faster as she caught up to him.

Finally, they passed by a tall door and arrived inside a round chamber with a pedestal in the middle. There was a dark globe sitting on the pedestal, and in its depth, she glimpsed the landscape of Mordor.

A _palantir_, she thought, taken aback. Aragorn had told her that few still existed in this world.

A staff tapped dryly on the polished ground, followed by the apparition of an old man all clad in white. Baadash went down on one knee before him. "I have returned with the wolf Queen, Master."

Saruman's deep black eyes roamed over her body. "Well done," he replied without taking his deep dark eyes off her.

"As promised, I can keep her, can't I?" Baadash asked as he rubbed Serecor expectantly.

Saruman twirled around towards him and extended a hand with his palm facing upwards. Baadash eyed the hand, and a harsh glint slowly sneaked into his bloodshot eyes. "You promised," he repeated as the grin faded from his face.

Saruman arched an eyebrow. "Who do you think you are? I do not make promises with servants who smell of rot. She is a rare specimen, and I need her for my research. The Blood Ring is still incomplete. She broke free once, did she not?"

Baadash looked away.

"Or perhaps ," Saruman pursued implacably, "your will is too weak in comparison to hers, and she overpowered you even with the strength of Serecor at your command. If that is the case, you are not worthy of bearing the Blood Ring."

Baadash bared his teeth in silence. Slowly, he slid Serecor off his finger and deposited it on Saruman's waiting hand.

When the Ring exchanged hands, there was a second when Allie was free. However, all she managed to do was to make a step forward before Saruman's will was flowing inside of her. "Come, Glor Bereth. I have a cell especially designed for you."

Helpless, she did as told, walking past a seething Baadash and out of the round chamber. Saruman led her down more stairs until they were below ground level. They passed by thousands of Uruk-hai busy making swords and armors. The heat was unbearable, and the hammering sounds were deafening.

Finally, they reached an underground cave. Allie welcomed the coolness of the place, which contrasted quite nicely with the hellish temperatures of the forges. Saruman seized a torch and led the way into the darkness. A few meters in, they passed by a cell from where a pungent odor was drifting out. As she passed it by, Allie's eyes widened when she saw the corpse of a wolf lying on bloody straw. The smell from this distance made her retch, and she had to swallow back the sudden swirl of acid that climbed up her throat.

Flies were swirling around the old wolf's body and into and out of its mouth.

It was the wolf from the mirror.

The light of the torch passed it by and plunged its pitiful body back into darkness once more as they walked by. However, if the mirror was right, that wolf was not yet dead. Allie wondered how her fate was linked to his. The mirror had showed him to her, so he had to be important. Was she to save him from this wretched place?

Allie followed Saruman till he led her to a cell of her own. He ordered her to step inside, and then pulled down a gate of metal bars, which he secured in place with a massive lock. Then, he stood back and murmured an enchantment. Allie tensed up, expecting some kind of hurt to befall her, but nothing happened.

Saruman studied the Blood Ring under the light of the torch for long minutes, and then finally spoke to her: "This Ring can be even more powerful than it is now. You will help me make it stronger, Glor Bereth. For now, I have an army to rise. I shall come fetch you when you are needed."

And then he left her alone in the darkness. With the growing distance between her and the Ring, she felt the hold of the Ring becoming weaker and weaker until it disappeared altogether.

Finally able to move as she willed, she explored her small cell, smelling at the straw and the damp rocky walls. She tried biting at the metal bars, but they were injected with sorcery, and made her fangs hurt. The enchantment that Saruman had cast also prevented her from using the Blood link to alert her wolves to her confinement in this place. She was all alone now, and no one in Middle-earth knew where she was.

Was she going to end up like that old wolf in the other cell?

Fear swirled up in her chest.

* * *

After climbing down from the secret stairs of Minas Morgul, Sam and the wolves were more than relieved to see a world that has not yet turned to ash. Although poisonous fumes were drifting out of Mordor every day in cadence to the beating of war drums, at least not all the vegetation around the cursed place had yet succumbed to death.

Pippin immediately set out to catch some prey for them to eat, and Hunter continued forward towards Minas Tirith, carrying both Sam and a still unconscious Frodo on his back.

Pippin searched for game all day, but to his disappointment, no living thing could be found in the lands this close to the darkness. He was, however, pleasantly surprised when wolves from his unit came to join him.

"We have been outside of Mordor for the past couple of days, wishing for your safe return," a recruit told him.

Pippin nodded in appreciation. "Is the entire pack close by?"

"Only those in your unit and Hunter's. Councillor's unit decided to stay close to him, in Fangorn, and Informant's unit went south with him."

"Then we are almost two hundred gathered here. It will have to do, I suppose," Pippin pondered with a sigh.

"We are going to war, aren't we?" another wolf asked.

"Yes," Pippin admitted sadly. "The enemy has our Queen."

The wolves looked at each other with panic evident in their expressive eyes.

Pippin suddenly looked around warily, his ears swivelling this way and that. His wolves fell silent and also strained to hear whatever their leader had heard. However, it was more a feeling than a sound that had assaulted Pippin's senses: the feeling that they were being watched.

Tongues of fog suddenly swirled down from the ground around them, creeping and crawling along the surface of the earth like immaterial arms. Pippin looked around in alarm when the fog enveloped them.

"Spread out!" he commanded his wolves. "Something is coming!"

"The enemy?" a young wolf inquired worriedly.

Pippin did not know, but the speed at which the fog had suddenly appeared was far from being natural. Soon, the whiteness hid his wolves from sight and covered all sounds. Pippin slowly turned in a circle, all his senses in alert.

Finally, he detected the sound of paws on damp grass.

"Wolves!" he cried out in alarm, his mind trying to reconcile this information.

Allie had assimilated all known packs to the West of the Misty Mountains. She had become the one and only Queen to rule over the wolves over that entire area. The ones that were approaching now in the fog bore strange scents, meaning that they belonged to a different pack.

Pippin urgently contacted all the wolves of his pack with this information.

Miles from there, Hunter stopped in his advance and looked back, his blue eye troubled.

"_The wolves of the Rhovanion,"_ Councillor's voice resounded inside their heads.

"_Impossible!"_ Hunter mused. _"I thought they were legend!"_

"_I have never doubted their existence_," Councillor said, _"but the real question is why? Why have they revealed themselves now, after all this time?"_

"I suppose we will find out now," Pippin barked before running straight ahead, towards the wolf shadows he could see beyond the fog.

A clearing opened up in front of him, and he skidded to a halt. A piece of fog shifted and moved in front of him, morphing into a wolf. Pippin watched in unabated astonishment at this phenomenon, before realizing that it had only seemed that way because the wolf was covered in snow white fur from head to toe. His eyes, however, were of a striking blue, like a clear sky over the Shire on a summer morning.

And it was not a he, but a she.

"Greetings," she said softly.

"Who are you?" Pippin asked in wonder.

The white wolf held his gaze for a moment. "The Queen of what you call the pack of Rhovanion."

Pippin bowed his head slightly in submission. "Greetings to you as well."

He did not know how he should behave; the only Queen he had ever dealt with was Allie, and because of their friendship, she had never imposed a relationship of authority onto him. However, this Queen was different.

He knew he should not gaze at her for too long, out of respect. However, he could not take his eyes off the glistening fur of her back and the glint in her eyes.

The fog slowly receded, revealing hundreds of silent wolves now encircling Pippin and his unit. Most of them were white or had pale-colored coats. Pippin gauged the situation; it did not look favorable to him if a battle was to break out.

"To what might I owe this visit?" he asked her carefully.

The white wolf's sky blue eyes took in the darkness coming from Mordor, before resting upon Pippin once more. Her tone was serene, but her words were heavy when she finally said: "The evil to the East has taken physical shape. I was afraid a day like this would come. We have never taken part in the affairs of the world, not even to deal with other wolves. However, now I fear evil will soon come knocking on our doors. The hour is grave, Peregrin Took, Protector of Glor Bereth."

"How do you know my name?" Pippin asked, on his guard.

"There are few things that I do not know," she answered simply.

"Why have you come to me? Have you decided to join the fight against Sauron?"

Her sky blue eyes were all-encompassing. "Decided? I would not say so. But war is now a fate that no living being on Middle-earth can escape. Whether we fight, or whether we surrender, the result will still be the same: death."

"I refuse to think like that," Pippin countered. "There is a third possibility, and that is victory and life! Why is that not a possible outcome? I have faith in my Queen. If anyone will find a way, it will be her!"

The white wolf studied Pippin carefully, noting the glint of defiance and determination in his green eyes.

"You are young still, you have not seen much of the world," she stated with a heavy heart. "How can you still hold up such determination when you have just suffered a terrible defeat at the hands of the enemy? How can you still say words so full of hope?"

"Despairing would be of no use," Pippin said. "I have the responsibility of holding this pack together until Allie comes back. I am sorry, Queen of Rhovanion, but if you do not wish to help us, then please stop wasting my time."

A pale grey wolf stepped forward, but the white wolf swung her tail once, and he fell back silently.

Pippin walked past her with his head held high. "However, if I may be allowed to presume one thing, it is that you also harbor hope. Isn't that why you came all the way here to find me? If you truly believed that death is the only outcome, no matter what you do, you would not have bothered."

Suddenly, the white wolf laughed, its sound like cascading water.

"I like you, young one," she said. "I have indeed come to you because I want to help you, but perhaps not in the way that you expect. I have no intention of joining the war, but I do have information that you might find valuable."

Pippin's eye rolled in her direction, awaiting her next words.

"Your Queen is no longer in Mordor."

Pippin twirled around slowly, his green eyes bearing intently into hers.

The white wolf approached her head and whispered: "She will reach Isengard soon, if she has not already."

"Saruman?"

"Indeed. What will you do now, young one? Will you continue on your way towards the White City and join the war against Sauron, or will you bring your unit to Orthanc?"

Pippin quickly relayed this information to the rest of the pack.

After receiving feedback from them, Pippin turned towards the Queen and said: "Councillor's unit is close to Isengard. He will think of something to rescue Allie. Although it pains me to give up on directly rescuing her, my wolves will be more useful here, where the enemy will strike first. I know that is what Allie would have wanted of me as well."

The white wolf batted an ear. "I see that you do not reason as a wolf."

Pippin took his distance from her. "You must have also been something other than a wolf once, Queen of Rhovanion."

Her tail swiped the ground behind her. "Is that not the nature of a wolf? We were all something else before we changed. I like your determination, so I will tell you this. I used to be a Wizard. Not one of the five Istari who first came to Middle-earth. I belonged to one of the smaller sects."

"A woman Wizard?" Pippin wondered out loud, before biting his tongue.

"We were few, but we did exist."

"Do you have a name?"

Her sky blue eyes considered the auburn wolf. "Yes, I did. But I have it no more."

"Well, I thank you for the information then. I have to be on my way now."

He waited with all his senses in alert, watching for any signs of belligerence from the other pack, but the white wolf simply stepped aside as her pack slowly vanished away into the growing mist.

"Well met, Peregrin Took. I wish you luck on your enterprise."

Pippin nodded briefly and then walked away. He hadn't gone further than a couple of steps before he halted. Without turning back, he said: "If you ever change your mind and wish to join us, we will welcome you at any time. Allie has never partnered up with other Queens before, but you are different from all the others, I can feel it."

He waited for an answer, but only got silence in return.

When he finally looked back, he saw that the clearing was now empty. The Queen of Rhovanion and her wolves had already vanished.

The earth suddenly started trembling underneath his feet. Pippin crouched down low with fur on edge as the air seemed to be sizzling with malevolent energy.

A loud crack filled the air, and then a column of green light shot up into the dark skies from Minas Morgul.

Pippin felt his stomach lurch in fear. "It has begun…" he murmured to himself.

His wolves started howling one after the other as the light of Minas Morgul danced in their eyes.

* * *

Faramir was polishing a wooden lance absent-mindedly with his knife, not paying heed to the small slips of thin wood accumulating around his feet. The river running through Osgiliath was quiet.

He had told his men that the Orcs would be coming from the river, but in all honesty he was not completely certain of his prediction. They could very well come by land as well, for all he knew. However, he did not have enough men to cover both sides. His instinct had told him to guard the river, and so he had assured his men to guard it. His father had only given him a small garrison, preferring to keep the bulk of Gondor's army safe at home, under the command of Boromir.

Faramir had truly been surprised to see his brother come back alive. A few months after Boromir had left for Rivendell, he had dreamed a terrible dream in which Boromir's war horn had been split in half, and his body strewn with countless arrows. His previous dreams had always carried some underlying meaning, so he had been certain that this one had meant to tell him of his brother's death.

However, six days ago, his brother had appeared at the Gate of Minas Tirith alive and well. He had been without horse nor weapons nor even clothes, simply wrapped with a blanket that he must have picked up from a stable nearby.

At an overjoyed Denethor's urging, Boromir had talked about Elrond's Council, but only briefly. He soon stated that he had come home for one sole purpose: to raise and ready the army of Gondor, because Sauron was coming.

Denethor had almost fainted at the news, and had asked him how he knew. Boromir had simply asked him to trust him like he always did, and Denethor had immediately started gathering men and making new weapons.

Two days ago, Denethor had stumbled out of the throne room, pale as a ghost. He had found Boromir and Faramir, and had brought them to the edge of the city walls from where they could see the dark clouds gathering above Mordor. With trembling lips, Denethor then murmured that Sauron had found and obtained Isildur's Bane. At this, even Boromir's knees had buckled.

Then, he had looked towards Mordor with an undecipherable glint in his eyes.

Faramir could not help thinking that his brother had changed; he seemed to bear a secret within him that he could not let anyone see, not even his own brother.

A ripple in the water attracted his attention, and he was immediately on his guard, his hand near the hilt of his sword. However, the minutes passed and there was only the fog.

Suddenly, the sky on the Eastern side seemed to crack open as a column of eerie green light shot up into the black clouds.

Muffled cries shot up from everywhere around him as the shadows of green light danced on the men's anguished faces.

Faramir himself could only force himself to swallow down his fear.

The light had barely subsided that his men suddenly let out screams of alarm as they raised their bows. Faramir felt a cold needle pierce his heart. How could Sauron's army have reached them already? Had the green light been a trick?

He strung his bow with a quivering arrow and directed it in front of him.

From the ruins of Osgiliath, a monstrous shape with a glowing eye was advancing.

"Put down your weapons! We are not your enemies! We come in peace!" a surprisingly young and small voice came from the beast.

Faramir grabbed a lamp and lifted it to illuminate the few yards between him and the glowing eye. His men let out a gasp when the light revealed a giant wolf. A small figure jumped down from the wolf's back, and advanced towards them with his hands up in the air.

"My name is Samwise Gamgee; I am a hobbit of the Shire!" he called out.

The Men could not make sense of the antagonism between the giant wolf and the small half-man. They had never heard of the Shire, and so could only look on at the unlikely pair in stunned suspicion.

Faramir kept his eyes strained on the wolf. "What is it that you want, Samwise Gamgee?"

Sam looked around at the bows still directed at them. "It is a long story, so will you not put down your weapons? Sauron is coming, and he has the Ring! You should not be here. You should retreat to Minas Tirith."

The second-in-command, Madril, sniggered. "Are we now supposed to take orders from you, Mr. Wolf-Rider?"

"Silence," Faramir intimated him. "This is no time for your arrogance. Lower your arms, all of you."

The Men obeyed grumpily.

"How do you know about the Ring of Power?" Faramir asked again.

Sam shook his head. "You have to bring your Men back behind the walls of Minas Tirith first, or you will all die here! I will tell you everything on the way there."

"I cannot do that. I am here by orders of my father. I need to hold this city, whatever it takes."

"This city is already lost," a second voice came from the wolf's back.

Another small figure awkwardly slid off the back of the giant wolf. "Mr. Frodo!" Sam exclaimed and then ran back to support him.

Faramir saw a second Halfling approaching him with a limp. His legs were bandaged, and his eyes were empty. He looked so fragile that it seemed a gust of wind could blow him away.

"I am Frodo Baggins," the second hobbit whispered. "I was the Ring-bearer. My task was to throw the Ring into Mount Doom to destroy it. But I failed, and now the enemy has it instead."

He raised empty blue eyes to gaze up at Faramir's shocked face. "I have seen their numbers and their power when they did not have the Ring. Now that they do have it, their strength will be multiplied by ten, no, by a hundred. Your Men here will never hold against the darkness that is coming."

Faramir reeled a little at this information. He exchanged a look with his captains.

"Your father will not be pleased," Madril warned him.

Faramir glanced towards the darkness in the East, and then back to the boy with the empty eyes, supported by Sam.

"We are going back to Minas Tirith," he whispered. And then louder: "We are going back to Minas Tirith! Pack up your weapons and your food! We are riding back immediately!"

Sam let out a sigh of relief, but Frodo simply climbed back on top of Hunter once more and sat there unmoving.

By nightfall that day, the few Men who had ridden out to Osgiliath had all returned within the walls of the White City. The folk living in the city welcomed them back with tears of joy, glad to see them still alive. Their expression morphed into screams of alarm, however, when they spotted the giant grey wolf entering the city gates at their tail.

Faramir appeased them, saying that the wolf and its riders were allies to Gondor in the upcoming war.

Hunter could smell their fear of the aforementioned war. It was so strong that it infested the air of the entire city. He wanted to snort in contempt, but one glance at the shadow in the East made him think better.

Boromir chose that moment to come sprinting down into the main courtyard from a wide incline that led to the level above. The two brothers reunited with an accolade. Boromir then let his eyes fall on Hunter, Frodo and Sam, and his face lit up.

"You are alive!" he exclaimed as he rushed towards them.

Under everyone's flabbergasted eyes, he grabbed Hunter by the ears and knocked his forehead against that of the wolf with a huge grin on his face. His eyes swept around the courtyard, and his traits fell a little when he noted Allie's absence.

He approached the hobbits and whispered: "Where is the Queen?"

Frodo looked away as his hand tightened painfully around the fur of Hunter's neck. Sam answered sadly in his stead: "The enemy still has hold over her."

A shadow fell over Boromir's traits as he wiped at his beard anxiously.

Faramir clasped a hand on his brother's shoulder and said: "I did not know you were acquainted with them."

"Yes…" Boromir let out vaguely.

He glanced at Frodo's haggard appearance, and then signalled at Hunter to follow him. The people all parted ways for them. Boromir mounted on a nearby horse and started leading the way towards the top of the city. Faramir rode beside him in silence.

"Father will not be pleased, but you made the right choice by coming back here," Boromir told him after a couple of minutes.

"When is Father ever pleased with me?" Faramir retorted. "This will be nothing new."

They reached the well-kept courtyard at the last level of the city. A dead tree was at its center, guarded by four guards. Faramir and Boromir dismounted their horses, and two stable boys led them away. Sam and Frodo also got off Hunter's back. Sam looked around in awe, but Frodo kept his eyes to the ground.

Faramir turned towards the hobbits and said: "The throne is up those stairs, and it would be courtesy to greet Lord Denethor, the Steward of the City, but you both look like you could use a good rest first." He glanced towards his brother and added: "It also seems like you have a lot to discuss with my brother, so I will leave you with him."

At this, Boromir held Faramir back by the shoulder. "No, stay with us today. It is time I tell you everything, little brother."

Faramir studied his face intently for a second. "I understand. But I should report my return to father first, and get it over with."

"Leave him be. There are more urgent matters to tend to than his temper."

"Fair enough," Faramir conceded. He started leading the way, but turned back when he saw Hunter following. "I apologize, but the wolf has to stay here."

Hunter rolled his eye and went to lie down on one of the patches of green grass around the dead tree. The guards whispered in dismay, but no one dared chase him away.

Boromir huffed a laugh. "He doesn't change."

Faramir led them to his quarters, and asked the servants to bring food and water. When the food arrived, Sam dug in hungrily, not remembering the last time he had eaten anything but lembas bread. Frodo, however, simply picked up some grapes and nibbled at them absent-mindedly.

"You have to eat, Mr. Frodo," Sam urged quietly. "Here, have some bread."

"I'm not hungry," Frodo answered without looking at him.

"But you haven't eaten in days. Come on, just this one piece."

Frodo slowly took the bread from Sam, but he did not bring it to his mouth.

Meanwhile, Boromir was filling Faramir in with details of what had really happened at Elrond's Council, followed by his subsequent journey with the Fellowship. When he told his brother about the Orc attack by the Anduin, and his choice to come back to life as wolf, Faramir stood up and backed away, eyes shining in horror.

Boromir sighed and popped some more meat into his mouth. "It must be a shock for you, Faramir. You will need some time to get used to this reality. Do not tell father; he needs to keep his mind focused on the war."

Faramir had known that something had befallen his brother, but nothing had prepared him to this. Before today, he did not even know that wolves still existed. His brain seemed to take an eternity to process all the information he had heard. When he finally came to accept it somewhat, he let out a long and shaky sigh as he sat back down at the table.

"Brother…" he started weakly as he wiped his beard.

"Being a wolf is not so bad, and I will prove it in battle," Boromir added with a wolfish smile, but Faramir did not seem appeased.

Since Frodo was not talking, Sam then recounted his version of the events that had unfurled in Mordor. Midway through the tale, Frodo pushed away from the table and left.

Silence fell over the remaining three.

Boromir put down his drink and sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "I feel so sorry towards him," he let out with a shake of his head, thinking back to what he had done at the fall of Rauros.

Sam clenched his hands into fists. "I don't know what to do to help him."

"His heart is shrouded in darkness," Faramir observed. "He has lost too much. You said he was in a battle of wills with the Dark Lord…" he shuddered. "I could not imagine anyone accomplishing that feast and surviving to tell the tale. It is a wonder that he has kept his wits about him after that confrontation. I might be able to do something for him, however."

Sam's eyes lit up. "Truly? Oh, bless you, Faramir!"

"They don't call me the Wizard's pupil for nothing," Faramir winked. "I have learned a thing or two from Mithrandir."

In the meantime, after leaving Faramir's quarters, Frodo had wandered back to the main courtyard where Hunter was gnawing at some bones that the servants must have thrown in his direction at Faramir's command. The four guards had abandoned all pretense of guarding the tree and were watching him openly now. One of them even tried to approach him with an outstretched hand, mumbling: "Good boy… good boy…" under his breath.

Hunter paid them no heed.

One of the guards saw Frodo coming, and signalled to the others, who quickly went back to their posts.

Frodo was heading towards the tree when the doors to the throne room glided quietly open, and out came Denethor clad in his dark robes ornamented with a collar of white fur.

The Steward climbed down the stairs with deliberate slowness as his face filled with anger and disgust at the sight of the wolf on his courtyard. Then, his cold eyes fell on Frodo standing at the bottom of the stairs. Slowly, he made his way to the hobbit and looked down at his dirty clothes and bandaged legs with contempt.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked haughtily.

Frodo looked up at him unblinkingly. "The Steward," he answered.

Denethor's lips became so thin they almost disappeared. "I do not like your insolence. Kneel before me!"

Frodo hadn't meant to be insolent; in fact, he hadn't meant to be anything. However, he still obediently went down on one knee, grimacing at the pain that action elicited in his legs.

Denethor's jaw jutted out slightly. "Do you think I don't know who you are?" he hissed angrily with madness in his eyes.

Before Frodo knew what was happening, he was being lifted up in the air by the collar of his shirt. "You handed the Ring to our enemy on a silver platter! Because of you, we are all going to die!"

Denethor's chin was trembling with barely suppressed rage. "And yet you dare come groveling here to ask for protection! Why should I grant it to your miserable little self?"

He started walking towards the edge of the courtyard, the edge of the plateau, where only a wall stood between safety and a fall of a thousand feet to the streets of the city below.

"You should be ashamed of yourself for still being alive after unleashing this terror on us all!" he continued.

Frodo tried to break free, but Denethor's hand was like an iron claw around his neck. "Let go of me!" he managed to wheeze out between two breaths.

Denethor did not answer, but continued to walk on inexorably.

A gasp of terror escaped his mouth when Hunter's form suddenly interposed itself in front of him, barring his route.

"Away with you, you filthy dog!" Denethor screamed. And then: "Guards! Guards!"

The four guards came running and pointed their lances towards Hunter. However, their eyes looked uncertain.

"What are you waiting for?" Denethor yelled. "Kill him!"

The guards rushed forward, but Hunter showed his fangs and snarled at them until they backed away once more. Frodo was still clawing at Denethor's hand around his throat as he struggled to breathe. The angry Steward only tightened his hold in response.

After a while, the hobbit's arms fell down limp beside his body as he stared at the white tiles of the courtyard below his dangling feet. Why was he even struggling? What the Steward said was right. After a failure of this caliber, how could he still hold his head up high and beg those he had failed to take him in? There was no place where he belonged now, and nothing he could do to make up for what he had brought upon the world.

Dark spots danced in front of his eyes.

Suddenly, Denethor's hand around his throat loosened and he fell down onto the ground. He brought a hand to his throat and coughed dryly when air traveled through his lungs once more. A second later, Sam was by his side, holding him up, asking him whether he was all right.

In front of him, Denethor was sprawled down on the ground with a hand to his cheek, eyeing in shock his own son Boromir who had just punched him in the face. "What are you doing, father?" Boromir shouted in angry disbelief.

Denethor's lips trembled as he stuttered : "M-my s-son… how could you? Your own father!"

"You should be ashamed of yourself!" Boromir gesticulated wildly. "Do you know how much he has gone through? How could you mistreat him so?"

Faramir bent down towards Frodo and helped him up onto his feet. Seeing Sam's concerned gaze, he gave him a reassuring smile and simply said: "Entrust him with me, Master Gamgee."

Sam took a step back and nodded, watching as Faramir gently guided Frodo away.

Faramir led the hobbit back to his living quarters and offered him a seat on the single wooden chair present in the room. Then, he closed the door behind them, effectively shutting out the angry voices of Boromir and Denethor who were still arguing in the courtyard.

Faramir turned towards the hobbit. "How are you feeling, Mr. Baggins?"

"I'm fine," he whispered as he massaged his neck, where Denethor's fingers had left deep red marks.

Faramir eyed the dried blood on the bandages around his legs, and then went outside to exchange some words with a servant, who nodded and swiftly departed. Coming back into the room, he couldn't help but feel pity as he set eyes on the hobbit slouched on the chair with his head bent low. He seemed merely a child in his eyes. A child who had seen and suffered things that no grown man should even have to go through.

He went to sit in front of Frodo in silence, simply keeping watch over him until the servant came up with a towel and a bucket of warm water in which green leaves lay floating.

Faramir knelt down in front of the hobbit and started undoing his bandages. Frodo did not protest nor say a word; in fact, it seemed that his mind had wandered elsewhere altogether.

When the bandages fell away, Faramir inspected the tender and rosy skin that was only starting to grow back on the hobbit's feet and calves. He wet the towel in the water and then started cleaning the wounds. Frodo winced in pain from time to time, but never uttered a sound.

"These plants are called _athelas_. It is an herb that the Elves often use in the healing of both body and mind. Mithrandir showed them to me once. The Wizard himself got the knowledge from a Ranger of the North he has met during his travels. How do you feel?"

Frodo blinked and looked back at him, and Faramir could see that he had not heard a word of what he had just told him.

"Thank you for doing this," was all Frodo said.

"You are not to blame for what happened," Faramir spoke as his hands continued working. "You made the best decision considering the circumstances, and you saved your own life and that of your companions. There is no right answer in the choices we make. We are still alive now; and the war is not yet lost. We must keep hope."

Frodo was tired of repeating to everyone that there was no way to win against the power of the Ring, so he just kept quiet.

As Faramir rubbed his legs with the _athelas_ water, Frodo suddenly remembered that Aragorn had used the same leaves to heal the black mark on Allie's cheek after she had bitten off the hand of the Witch King of Angmar at Weathertop.

At the memory of her, his heart scrunched up painfully, and he clenched his hand into a fist. Faramir noticed.

"You have lost someone important to you, haven't you?" he asked.

That was the last thing Frodo wanted to hear.

"I do not wish to talk about it," he replied faintly.

"Is she dead?" Faramir persisted.

Frodo's head jerked up at those words as anger coursed through his veins. "No!" he found himself screaming, more to chase away his own terror than to answer Faramir's question. He kept telling herself that if she were dead, the pack would know it. Hunter and Boromir would know it, and they would tell him. The fact that they had not told him anything must mean that she was still alive.

Faramir considered him compassionately. "Then why the despair, little one? As long as there is life, there is hope."

Frodo felt the anger leave him as fast as it had come, replaced by mere weariness.

"She is in a dreadful place," he finally whispered. "She might be suffering a pain worse than death."

"Is there no way to save her from that place?"

Frodo clenched his hands into fists. "I do not know how."

Faramir rubbed his legs a little harder, making him wince. "You do not know? Then does your will to save her only amount to this little?"

Frodo pushed Faramir's hands away angrily. "You don't know a thing! I would give anything to have her back safe and sound! I would even forfeit my own life! But the Ring…"

He suddenly clasped his head in his hands, his whole body shaking. "The Ring is too powerful. And Sauron took it! He took it from me!"

His mouth went dry when he realized what he had just said. Realization then dawned on him. Part of his feeling of emptiness was because he had lost Allie, but another part of it was simply due to his yearning to have the Ring back around his neck. There was a void in his chest claiming it. As much as he hated to admit it, one of the reasons for which he had wanted to walk straight back to Mount Doom was to reclaim the Ring from Sauron.

Faramir did not know how to reply to that, and so he remained silent.

Slowly, Frodo's haunted eyes met his. "It was my fault, wasn't it? I wanted to put the Ring on my finger. I didn't do it to save anyone. I did it for me…"

"Perhaps that might have been the truth," the Man conceded. "But the outcome is the same. By doing so, you saved your friends and companions."

"And doomed Middle-earth. And I lost the one I love," Frodo whispered. "Was it worth it? No, I would take it all back if I could."

Faramir put down the towel and wrapped new bandages around the hobbit's legs. Then, he wet another towel in the _athelas_ water and slowly forced Frodo to tilt his face towards him so that he could wipe off the mud from his cheeks.

"It my understanding that if you had not used the Ring, you would have perished along with your companions and she whom you hold dear. And Middle-earth would still be doomed. But you are still alive, Frodo Baggins, and so are your friends, and so is she. We are all on this earth for a purpose, and if you are still alive, it means your purpose is not yet fulfilled. Do you not know the saying that as long as there is life, there is hope? It is one that applies well to you."

Frodo just looked at him with a growing ball in his throat.

"How about some rest? You can sleep here for the night," the Man proposed as he let the towel fall back into the basin.

Frodo eyed the bed and was suddenly overwhelmed with bone-deep weariness. Faramir's words had given him a new perspective and much to ponder.

When Frodo lied down on the soft and wide bed, Faramir let the bassin of _athelas_ water sit on the table beside his head.

"It will help you dream good dreams," he explained.

Frodo propped himself up on one elbow. "Lord Faramir," he started, hesitated and then simply said: "Thank you for everything."

Faramir smiled a benevolent smile and closed the door behind him when he left the room.

* * *

Allie opened her eyes a slight. A light was approaching in the darkness, carrying with it the smell of horses. The light came from a single lamp, but to Allie who had stayed in darkness for what seemed like an eternity, it was as blinding as the sun. The wolf covered her eyes with her paws and waited.

Soon, panting and puffing noises could be heard as a Man all clad in black struggled through the narrow corridor of the underground cave. He was carrying something in his other arm that he deposited through the bars of her cage once he got close enough.

Allie made out a horse's leg. The meat was already decaying, but she was hungry, so she started eating without paying further attention to the Man.

As she swallowed down the harsh meat, she thought at the back of her mind that he would leave after his delivery, but instead he put down the lamp beside him and sat in front of her cage, watching her eat.

When she was done, she threw a glance his way and made out pale green eyes in a pale face framed with long, oily-looking black hair.

"He told me you can understand human speech," the Man who smelled like horses whispered unblinkingly.

Allie just looked at him. Another one who thought wolves were mere beasts.

"My name is Grima Wormtongue. I used to work under King Theoden of Rohan."

_And now you are working under Saruman,_ Allie thought, and wondered how that had come to be.

Grima pushed the lamp closer to her cage with his foot, and his mouth opened slightly when the light illuminated patches of golden fur.

"So beautiful…" he gasped.

He started to reach out a hand between the bars of the cage, and Allie growled once in warning. Grima's hand retreated like a snake.

"The Wargs we keep are not like you," he whispered as he rubbed his hands together nervously. "I have never seen fur of this color. It reminds me of the hair of my beloved."

At this, Allie raised her head to study his face. From the look of longing and pain in his eyes, she could guess that it had probably been a one-sided love. From his clothes and his demeanor, she guessed that he must have betrayed King Theoden and ended up here serving Saruman instead.

Saruman was going to wage war against Rohan very soon. Grima was a Man, but if Saruman succeeded, soon Grima's kind would cease to exist. Did this Man realize this?

Under Grima's astonished eyes, the wolf's shape started shifting. It took long seconds for the transformation to happen, but when it was over, there was now a small girl sitting inside the cage with sweat running down her forehead.

Transforming back into a hobbit was exceptionally difficult now. Allie didn't know how many more times she could do it. All she knew was that she needed to hold on long enough to see Frodo again. That was all that she prayed the Gods for.

She shuffled closer to the cage, and Grima backed away a little, still under the shock of what he had witnessed.

"Do not be afraid. I cannot harm you in here, nor will I," Allie spoke in a raw voice that sounded foreign to her own ears.

Grima approached once more. "Is this your true form?"

"Perhaps. These days it is hard for me to tell."

Water dropped somewhere nearby, its sound clear and ominous in the silence of the caves, and Grima startled, looking back into the darkness. Allie reached out a hand and grabbed his sleeve, making him twirl back brusquely.

"You are a Man, so why are you serving him who will destroy your kind?"

Grima's mouth became disdainful. "King Theoden shamed me! He banished me from his house. Why should I care what happens to him?"

"If you let him die, I am afraid the race of Men will perish along with him. Do you know that Sauron has regained all his power? He will strike Gondor soon, and with the fall of both Gondor and Rohan, where will you go? Do you think Saruman will be on your side once the war is won?"

Fear crept up Grima's face along with the realization that she was speaking the truth. He looked down. "I am merely a servant of the White Wizard. Even if… even if I want to stop this, it is too late now. There is nothing more to be done."

A harsh grey eye entered his field of vision. "That is not true, Grima! There is something you can do!"

"What is that?"

"You can free me!"

Grima looked into her piercing grey eyes, framed by wild blonde curls. He bit his thumb. "No, it is too risky. What can you do? There is an army of ten thousand Uruk-hai already marching towards Helm's Deep! They have an artifact of some sort that Saruman has created. And most importantly, that Blood Ring of his… he has been fortifying it with black magic. He will enslave you again!"

"You don't know that! But one thing is for certain: nothing will be accomplished if I stay locked in here! Grima, you have to help me. I am your only chance! If it is Saruman's wrath that you fear, leave him to me. Free me, and escape from here while you still can!"

Grima's face was paler than usual when he stood up and took the lamp with him. "What you ask of me is impossible. You don't know the White Wizard. Nothing escapes his notice. I cannot take the key from him."

"Grima!" Allie yelled, but the latter had already run away. "Grima! Come back!"

She watched desperately as the light of his lamp dwindled away until it disappeared altogether.

"Come back!" she screamed again uselessly at the darkness.

* * *

Frodo was floating in the darkness, curled up in foetal position. He didn't know where he was, but it was a cold and lonely place, forsaken and forgotten by the rest of the world.

A shimmer in the darkness attracted his attention.

Lifting his head up a bit, he saw the Ring floating a few meters away from him, luring him with its cold and yet beautiful glint. Slowly, Frodo came out of his foetal position and swam uncertainly towards it.

He found himself looking down into a deep well of darkness. The Ring was sitting at the very bottom, in a pool of water as dark as night. The glow that came off its polished surface was the only light in this dark place.

Slowly, Frodo climbed over the edge of the well and started to make his way down to it.

_Ash nazg durbatuluk, ash nazg gimbatul,_ the Ring said.

Frodo felt his heart pounding. The golden shine of the Ring was the most alluring thing he had ever seen. He wanted it for himself. He climbed down faster, desperate to get to it.

The Ring seemed to grow in size as he neared it.

Almost there, Frodo thought.

He reached out a hand to seize it, but then he saw the reflection of his hand from inside the dark pool. The sight of it made him scream. In the reflection, his hand was scrawny, with pale dry skin and veins popping out like blue worms.

_Ash nazg thrakatuluk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul,_ the Ring beckoned.

As he leaned his whole body over the dark pool, Frodo saw Gollum's miserable and scrawny self reflected on the surface of it, eyeing the Ring avidly from below. Except that it wasn't Gollum; it was himself.

Frodo recoiled in horror and shakily lifted up both his arms to inspect them. They were much skinnier than he remembered them being: merely a flap of skin over bones. He touched his own face but could only feel the shape of his skull.

Despair grew in him as the Black Speech of the Ring repeated itself over and over again all around him. The Ring was pulsating in front of him, and Frodo couldn't help getting attracted to it once more in spite of knowing that it had destroyed him.

Suddenly, a rock fell from above and broke the surface of the water, creating dark ripples. Another rock followed it, bouncing off the water in a crystalline sound.

Slowly, Frodo uncovered his face and looked up. There was only darkness above him, but the rocks kept falling. The sounds they were making as they landed around him now vaguely resembled pebbles bouncing off a windowpane.

_I am not here to bother you_ – a voice resounded from above – _I came here to give you something._

Frodo stood up on his scrawny legs and leaned against the side of the well as he arched his neck up.

_I kept thinking of the lights on the river_ – the voice continued, young and a little shy, contrasting with the darkness of this place – _and I know this is probably nothing compared to that, but it's better than no lights at all for your birthday._

Small blobs of light started falling down towards him from the opening of the well, light and bright little stars drifting down like snowflakes. He counted twelve of them.

They landed on his head, on his shoulders, and on his arms, twelve little fireflies.

Tears started to gather at the corners of his eyes. He turned back to look at the Ring, but its light was now dimmer due to the shine of the fireflies in his eyes.

A hand tapped him on the shoulder, and he found himself looking into Allie's grey eyes. _"We just need to get rid of those angry thoughts,"_ she said encouragingly. _"Come on, I will show you."_

She gave him her hand, and he put his scrawny one in hers, letting her pull him out of the well.

He emerged back in a field of tall grass, but the colors of the world were all wrong. There was only black, grey and white, as though he had forgotten what the other colors were supposed to look like. However, from his world made of black and white, a golden shape sauntered away in the ashy grass.

Frodo started running after it the best he could.

The golden wolf appeared and then disappeared in front of his eyes as he frantically parted the grass. Finally, when he thought he could run no more, the grass field ended, and he found himself standing in front of the stairs leading up to Bag-End.

On the fence of the garden, there sat Allie, dressed in a white shirt and brown pants, the way she used to dress back when she was living with him. Her long blonde curls fell down heavily on her shoulders, and her grey eyes were watching him. She was the only person who was colorful in the grey background that surrounded them.

Frodo suddenly remembered his miserable appearance, and he turned his back to her wildly. She was the only person to whom he could not bear to show what he had become.

"Frodo," she called out to him.

He cowered even lower when he heard her walking towards him. "Don't come any closer!" he yelled to her wildly.

The footsteps stopped.

A second later, he felt her arms around the scrawny shape of his body.

"Don't look at me," he implored her. "Not like this."

But she twirled him around gently, and made his hands fall away from his face. He turned his head away, but he felt her warm hands cupping his face and making him look at her.

When he finally allowed himself to meet her gaze, he saw no horror or repulsion in her grey eyes. She was looking at him the way she had always looked at him, with a hint of playfulness in her smile and eyes full of exquisite tenderness only meant for him.

He pressed his fists to his eyes to stop the burning tears that threatened to overflow.

Seeing this, she sheltered him in her arms once more. "How did I become like this? I don't like this side of me, Allie. I am disgusted by myself."

"We all have a side like this," she whispered against his ear. "But I will be the only one to see yours, Frodo. I will hide this side of you for you and hold you up so that you can show your strong side to the world. This is the only thing I can do for you right now."

Frodo hugged her tighter. "It is more than enough. I do not even deserve it. I have failed you, and the Company."

"Not yet," she answered. "Nothing is over yet."

Suddenly, she let go of him and looked back. In place of Bag-End, there was now a dark cave looming behind her.

Frodo saw that and felt the dream starting to come apart, but he was not ready to let go yet. He wanted to stay like this, if only for a little longer. He closed his eyes and clasped her hand in his with all his strength.

"Frodo!"

He felt himself being pulled away.

"Mr. Frodo!"

Frodo slowly opened his eyes and a high beige ceiling slowly came into focus over his head.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam's voice resonated once more beside him.

Frodo turned his head on the pillow and saw that he was clenching Sam's hand tightly in his. Sam's hazel eyes were concerned. "Are you all right, Mr. Frodo? You were mumbling in your sleep, so I thought…"

Frodo reported his gaze on the beige ceiling and tried to breathe, but somehow he couldn't. There seemed to be a gaping hole in the middle of his chest, and he did not know what to do to make the pain go away.

His vision blurred and a burning sensation invaded his eyes.

Letting go of Sam's hand, he placed his forearm over his eyes and let the tears flow for the first time since he had escaped Mordor.

"Mr… Frodo?" Sam stuttered anxiously. "Did you have a bad dream? What is the matter?"

Frodo turned away from Sam and clenched the blanket to his chest as he let out a small sob, followed by a louder one. Soon, heart-wrenching sobs were ripping out his throat as he doubled over on the bed.

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried out, deterred.

The door was thrown open and Hunter barged in, his unique eye looking around the room for any signs of threat. Several Men of Gondor also peered in from the doorway.

"Make way!" Faramir shouted as he pushed them to the side to reach the room. When he saw the hobbit sobbing on the bed, he closed the door behind him.

"Faramir, sir, something is wrong with my Master!" Sam cried out, on the verge of crying himself.

Faramir let out a sigh and eyed the bassin of _athelas_ water by Frodo's bedside. "Let him cry," he appeased the gardener. "He has finally begun to heal."

* * *

Miles and miles from there, under the forges of Isengard, Allie opened her eyes to the darkness of the cave.

She gripped the bars of her cage as she wept. The way Frodo had looked in her dream had ripped her heart to pieces. All she wanted to do now to hold him again for real. She knocked a fist against her chest, but the searing stuffiness would not depart.

Why had he looked that way? If only she could make certain that he was all right! She needed to get out of here. If she had to break these bars with her body, then so be it. She would try until the bars yielded or death claimed her! She staggered on her feet and was ready to transform back into a wolf, when suddenly, through her tears, she saw a light approaching in the darkness, accompanied by the now familiar smell of horses.

Crazy hope ignited in her chest as she gripped the bars with both hands. "Grima…" she whispered. "Grima!"

She wiped away her tears furiously and tried to recompose herself the best she could.

Seconds later, Grima's terrified face appeared on the other side of the cage. He let down the lamp on the ground and then shakily fished out a silver key from the pocket of his dark coat.

He tried inserting it in the lock several times, but failed. Cursing, he breathed in deeply and tried again. Finally, the lock clicked open and Grima lifted the bars. Allie crawled out of her cell and grabbed the Man's hand wordlessly, not knowing what to say to express her gratitude.

However, Grima ripped his hand out of her grip. "He must have noticed by now… he notices everything. Go! Go while you still can!" he screamed with fear in every word.

And then he turned on his heels and rushed down the length of the corridor back the way he had come from.

Taking in a deep breath, Allie followed after him, feeling the knots of dirt under her feet and the damp walls of the cave under her fingertips as she sprinted down the corridor.

She finally had a chance to escape from this place; she could not mess it up.

* * *

**Mallory:** Hey! Hopefully by adding AU to this story, it had made it less confusing that I have MEANT to change everything since the very beginning. It is true that I could show the point of the view of the other characters a bit more, so thank you for that piece of advice. The reason why it seemed mostly Frodo and Allie centered was probably because it is, lol. The story is mostly told from their points of view. Sometimes, I use the points of view of Pippin, Sam, Faramir, or anyone who enters in contact with Frodo and Allie, as that would add more fluency to the story flow. I suppose I could jump around and show what everyone else is doing though. Definitely something I'll try to work into the story more. Also, glad to hear that you don't think Frodo and Allie are like Edward and Bella, lmao. Because honestly, apart from them being in love with each other, I'm not really sure what other resemblances there could be. It was an odd comparison to be made, I thought. That being said, thanks for your comments :)

**Nyxilia:** First of all, thank you very much for your review! It really lifted up my spirits when I read it :) Wolves are also my favorite animal! I wonder what could have given that away, haha. Yeah, I actually really enjoyed writing part one with Allie's brother and everything. I'm so glad you felt an emotional connection to that. Wouldn't it be funny if she did pull her head out of the mirror and realized that everything that has happened so far was just a vision? lol , that would be too easy a solution though. Unfortunately everyone still has to deal with Sauron's return lol. I'm sorry to hear about your old sports teacher :( but I'm glad this story can cheer you up somehow! Thanks for reading! Means the world to me :D And yes, sunscreen FTW! :)

And for everyone else who commented, I have replied to you via PMs also, but I just want to add here that I was on cloud 9 when I read your comments, haha! Thanks for the love, guys! And sorry for the long delay between updates, but you can rest assured that I'll write this story till its conclusion! :) Namarie!

-burningSunset


	46. Sauron's Conscience

******Sauron's Conscience**

Councillor pushed himself off the forest ground, his wolf shape a mere shadow in the gloominess of the woods.

The assembly of Ents that had gotten together that morning to discuss the upcoming war were still talking. Knowing what he knew of Ents, he understood there was no hope of them coming to a conclusion in time to be of any help.

Merry, however, did not understand that. He was pacing back and forth restlessly, biting his thumb and throwing glances at the Ents every now and then.

Among the Ents gathered, there were not two that were similar. Beech, oak, chestnut and ash, Councillor had never seen so many of them gathered together in the same place. Their boughs and leaves swayed gently as their rumbling voices filled up the thick forest air.

When the effects of the Ent water had vanished from within Councillor, all the Ents had been deeply perturbed at seeing his wolf shape. Some of them shook their barks, their ageless eyes blinking in fury and alarm. Luckily for him, Councillor had had time to warn Treebeard that this transformation would happen in the near future, and Treebeard had calmed the other Ents.

Unfortunately for him, he did not manage to obtain any satisfying answers from Treebeard concerning the Ent water. The water had been a part of this world for as long as time itself. Treebeard only knew that it could awaken the tree entities of old if they drank of it. He did not understand why it seemed to affect the wolves.

As for Merry, he regarded Councillor's transformation as a loss. Councillor had been the only person with whom the hobbit could speak with during the long hours of the Entmoot. Councillor had told him many things regarding wolves, and had kept him informed of what was transpiring in other parts of Middle-earth. However, now that Councillor was back to being his wolf self and refused to drink any more of the Ent water, Merry was left to pace the clearing restlessly by himself.

But now, his patience had all but run out. "Councillor, do you understand what they are saying? Have they reached any kind of decision yet?"

To his surprise, it was not Councillor, but Treebeard who slowly turned around and answered: "We have just agreed."

A light of hope appeared in Merry's brown eyes as he raised an expectant face towards the Ent.

Treebeard's jaw moved slowly from side to side before he rumbled: "I have told your name to the Entmoot… and we have agreed… that you are not an Orc."

Silence followed his words. Merry gaped at the Ent desperately, hoping that it was a joke. But that was a vain hope. Did Ents even know how to joke?

"But what about Saruman?" Merry found himself shouting. "Have you come to a decision about him?"

Treebeard slowly stretched to his full height, making his bark crack in several places. "Now don't be hasty, Master Meriadoc."

Councillor surveyed Merry's face with one eye, watching as bright spots of colors appeared on the hobbit's cheeks.

"Hasty?" Merry hissed, no longer able to camouflage his anger. "Our friends are out there! They need our help. They cannot fight this war on their own!"

"Yes, it is a war that affects us all. Tree, root and twig. But you must understand, young hobbit… it takes a long time to say anything in Old Entish… and we never say anything unless it is worth taking… a long time to say."

Merry listened to the words with a growing sense of despair. Pippin was out there, fighting. So were Frodo, Allie and Sam. Earlier during the meeting, all the Ents had stopped talking for a long time, and he had had the sense that the world had been holding its breath as something awful had just unfurled.

Councillor had also stayed very still with his deep eyes set East. Merry had asked him what was wrong, but the wolf had simply looked at him hauntingly and had remained silent.

"The Ents cannot hold back this storm," Treebeard pursued. "We must weather such things as we have always done."

Merry glared up at him disbelievingly. "How can that be your decision?!"

Treebeard sighed, a sound deep and long, like the wind rustling through a hole in the foliage of trees. "This is not our war."

"But you are a part of this world!" Merry stated harshly.

Treebeard blinked, and all the other Ents shuffled uncomfortably.

"Aren't you?" Merry reinforced. "This ___is_ your war. You must ally yourself with Men, Elves and wolves and fight Saruman together! You might be the missing chain that will lead them to victory."

Councillor studied the young hobbit with a certain amount of admiration. He was small, but he was brave. The wolf had no doubt that the hobbit would rush into battle himself if he could. In contrast, the Ents were ancient and tired creatures. They had sensed Sauron's return, just as Councillor had, and now they were frightened to the core. Councillor could not blame them.

He himself had been on edge ever since Pippin had given him the news of what had transpired in Mordor. He could not sense Allie at all now. Wherever she was, a veil of darkness now hid her to him. Pippin was the commander of the pack in Allie's absence, but Councillor could sense the young wolf's panic at the unfathomable responsibility.

As for himself, he knew he had done all he could in Fangorn. It was now time to depart this place. He highly doubted that the Ents would bestir themselves no matter how heart-felt Merry's words were.

"You are young and brave, Master Merry," Treebeard spoke up sadly. "But your part in this tale is now over. Go back to your home."

Merry's shoulders sagged and he put his vest back on dejectedly. "There won't be a home to go back to if the war is lost," he murmured to himself.

Councillor looked away from the scene; he could sense the presence of the wolves of his unit lingering around the nearest border of Fangorn forest. He pondered on his options. Perhaps he and his unit of wolves could do something if they went to Orthanc. However, the tower was protected by its frightening height and by the dark magic that insinuated its walls. He doubted wolves would be able to invade it. Should he lead them into the battle at Helm's Deep instead? Or should he join with Pippin and try to go into Mordor to search for Allie? But their numbers would be too few. The Orcs would make short work of them.

Hunter was in the White City, guarding the Ring-bearer and his friend. Informant was far to the South. The pack was scattered when Allie needed them most. For the first time since he became a wolf, Councillor doubted his decisions. Had he done the right thing by advising them to separate in such manner?

At that moment, Pippin's voice suddenly burst through his mind. "___Wolves!"_

Councillor gaped at the mental image that Pippin had sent to all the wolves. It was the image of foreign and pale wolves bearing strange scents stepping out of the mist. Councillor had never seen them, but he had heard of them. "___The Wolves of the Rhovanion,_" he announced to the pack.

"Impossible!" Hunter's voice thundered. "_I thought they were legend!"_

Councillor felt uneasy. _"I have never doubted their existence, but the real question why? Why have they revealed themselves now after all this time?"_

He sensed Pipping leaping forward to meet them, and his heart leapt with him.

For long minutes, there was silence on Pippin's end. Councillor ardently hoped the young wolf was not rushing to his doom.

After what seemed like an eternity, Pippin established a private communication with him: ___"Councillor, are you still in Fangorn Forest?"_

"___Yes."_

___"You have to go to Isengard. The Queen of the Rhovanion told me that Allie has been brought there! I don't know how she knows, and I don't know why she told me this, but I have a feeling she was telling me the truth."_

Councillor stood up straight, feeling the Blood course aggressively in his veins. This new sense of purpose that came with Pippin's information was more than welcome. He would worry about the appearance of the wolves of Rhovanion later.

At that moment, his eyes met those of Merry. Wolf and hobbit studied each other for a few seconds, and a light of understanding seemed to pass through them. Councillor made a small nod in direction of Isengard, and Merry smiled widely.

Turning to Treebeard, Merry suddenly asked: "Will you bring me to the border of the forest, Treebeard?"

Treebeard looked down at his small figure and nodded solemnly. "Yes. I will leave you at the western border. You can make your way north... to your homeland from there."

Merry let Treebeard seize him with one gnarled hand and deposit him on his stiff shoulder. "No," he said from beside the Ent's eyes. "I want to go to the southern border instead."

Ent marked a pause. "South? But that will lead you past Isengard!"

A small and knowing smile appeared on Merry's lips. "Precisely."

Councillor glanced up at him from below, his eyes gleaming ominously in the forest gloom. Then, he leapt lightly over a burrow and started on his way south. Treebeard shook his head in confusion, but did as Merry requested. Lifting up his feet made of roots, he stepped steadily after the brown wolf.

At the western border of Fangorn, wolves from Councillor's unit stood up from the patch of grass where they were lying and started sprinting south along the edge of the woods, towards Isengard.

* * *

Aragorn watched the setting sun with a grim face as he sat on the steps outside the main Hall of Helm's Deep. Even though last few rays of sun still lingered around him, creating broken patches of light on the grey steps, he could already feel the cold fingers of night closing in around him. Downwards from where he sat, Men hurried to and fro, rushing to ready dingy armor and sharpen dull blades. In spite of the level of activity, a heavy silence enveloped the fort.

Aragorn looked up from the dusty steps to stare into the Men's faces. Most of them had already seen too many winters, or too few. None of them were soldiers and fear showed clear as day on their faces.

Beside him, a lad of no more than fifteen was standing there, nervously holding a long sword. He was eyeing the crowd in front of him and seemed lost as to where to go or what to do. Long and dirty hair cascaded down his shoulders, looking almost transparent white as the last rays of sunlight pierced through them.

Aragorn let out a low whistle and the lad twirled around. His eyes widened slightly when he caught sight of Aragorn beckoning from the steps. For a second, he was afraid he had done something to offend the Lord, but then he hesitantly made his way towards him.

"Give me your sword," the Ranger said.

The boy handed the weapon to him uncertainly, and Aragorn took it. He weighed the blade in his hand carefully.

"What is your name, lad?" he asked, not without benevolence.

"Haleth, son of Hama, my Lord."

Aragorn studied the boy with a glint of interest.

As King Theoden's people had marched from Edoras to Helm's Deep, they had been attacked by Warg-riders mid-way through. Hama was the first one to perish at the fangs of the beast when he had gone ahead to scout with Gamling.

"The Men are saying that we will not live out the night," Haleth was saying without looking at him. "They say that it is hopeless."

Aragorn stood up and gave the sword a few good swings in front of him, making the blade glint dangerously in the dark.

"This is a good sword," he stated simply.

He twisted it around and presented it back to Haleth hilt first. The boy took it back carefully. Aragorn leaned down and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Haleth, son of Hama. There is always hope."

Haleth looked up at him, and found himself believing in the Ranger's words in spite of his fears.

As Aragorn left for the Hall gates standing behind them, Haleth made a hesitant step to follow him. "My Lord?"

Aragorn turned around, his eyes questioning.

"My father… I heard that you were with him when it happened. Did he die valiantly?"

A sad smile decorated the Ranger's lips. "There was a long column of women, children and elderly marching behind us. The Warg-riders no doubt wanted to ambush us and lead us all to our ruin. They sent out a scout to look into our formation, but your father intercepted him. So many of us are still alive because of him. His death has not been in vain."

Haleth's hand tightened around the sword. "Will they be here tonight? The Warg-riders?"

"We killed a number of them, but the White Wizard might send more," Aragorn answered honestly.

Haleth looked up at him determinedly. "I will fight them tonight," he spoke up in a clear voice. "I will carry on what my father could not finish."

Aragorn nodded. "You are brave, Haleth, son of Hama. Go get your armor then. Tonight, we will all fight for what we have lost."

The Ranger watched as the lad ran off the steps and disappeared in the crowd of other soldiers. He used to have the same kind of fiery spirit when he was Haleth's age, but now he that he was a man grown, his heart was full of unease that contradicted with the words of hope he had given to the boy.

He whirled around and entered the Hall, wincing a bit as his injury from the fight with the Warg-riders twitched at his side. Gimli had wrapped a bandage around his torso, but he had an inkling that fresh blood was already soaking through it.

His steps echoed off the dark and silent hall as he made his way to the now empty armory. Earlier in the day, he had had a disagreement with Legolas in front of the people of Rohan. As he donned his armor, careful not to re-open his wound, he thanked Gimli inwardly once more for stopping the argument before it could have gone out of hand.

Ever since Legolas had told them that he had had a premonition that the Dark Lord Sauron had obtained the One Ring, his face had become grim and unreadable. Aragorn never doubted the foresight of Elves, but he could not allow himself to believe in Legolas' prediction. Mordor was miles and miles away from here; how could Legolas know what was happening over there, even if he was indeed a prince of Elves?

"The wolves would," he thought out loud. For a second, he wondered how Allie and Frodo were faring if Legolas' prediction was true. Parting with them had been the hardest decision he had had to make so far. Could he have been wrong? Should he have gone with them?

He sighed tiredly as he tied a belt over his leather vest. He slid an elven dagger into the belt and turned to reach for his sword.

Someone had already seized it and was now holding it up to him hilt first. Looking up, his eyes met those of Legolas. The Elf was standing in front of him with the hint of a smile on his fine lips. The Ranger had not heard him enter; Legolas could be as silent as a shadow and that had not changed.

Aragorn accepted the sword with a nod of gratitude.

"We have trusted you this far. You have not led us astray. Forgive me. I was wrong to despair," the Elf's words carried softly in the dim room.

"There is nothing to forgive, Legolas," Aragorn replied in Elvish.

Legolas looked relieved at that. They exchanged a knowing glance, and no other words were necessary.

"Tell me more about Sauron's return," the Ranger forced himself to ask. "We did not have time to talk about it earlier due to the attack of the Warg-riders."

The now familiar grimness settled into the Elf's features. "I know you doubt my words. I cannot be certain about it, but I saw a dark omen in the sky. It was a dark cloud in the shape of a ring in the eastern horizon over the mountains. When I set eyes on it, coldness and dread such as I have never known pierced through my heart. Perhaps it was a sign for the imminent arrival of the Warg-riders instead."

Aragorn studied the Elf. "But you do not believe that."

Legolas shook his head. "No. Ever since then, that feeling of doom has not left me. I wish I could consult with either Lord Elrond or Lady Galadriel to confirm my fears. But in my heart, a voice is telling me that there is no mistake."

Aragorn turned around and watched the shadows from the torches dance on the yellow walls. "Still. It is but a feeling."

He ardently wished he could look into a ___palantir_ right now so that he could confirm his fears, but then quickly brushed that wish aside. That would be madness.

Legolas' hand clasped his shoulder gently. "I know why you don't want to believe in my words. You fear for Gondor. If Sauron has indeed returned, he will strike there first. Perhaps he already has."

Aragorn whirled around and fixed into the Elf's deep blue eyes. Legolas pursued: "And Gondor's heir is here, fighting the wrong war."

Aragorn stumbled a bit under the harsh truth. "You do not mince your words."

"I would never tell you a lie, my friend."

A look of harsh determination crossed the Ranger's eyes. "There is no wrong war. There is only one war; the one for mankind, the one for all of Middle-earth. This battle is part of that war. This is where I will make my stand. Gondor will have to make theirs. "

Legolas smiled. "Then let me make that stand with you."

Aragorn clasped his shoulder in gratitude, and Legolas squeezed his arm firmly.

A loud tinkling sound interrupted them, and they saw Gimli marching into the room in a chainmail way too long for his height. When he let go of it, the metal rings hit the ground all around him like a long dress.

"It's a little tight across the chest," the Dwarf grumbled.

Aragorn and Legolas tried their best to hide their amused smiles.

At that moment, a loud horn suddenly sounded from outside the Keep. Aragorn's hand flew to his sword and Legolas' fingers grazed his bow. But then, his eyes widened in recognition of the sound. "That is no Orc horn!" he exclaimed.

The Man and the Elf ran out of the armory and into the battlements at the same time as the gates of Helm's Deep opened. Under every Man's flabbergasted and wonderous gaze, an army of Lothlorien elven archers started to march into the Keep. Their helmets and polished bows shone with the light of hope in the gathering darkness of night. A Rohan soldier knelt to the ground as tears of joy streamed down his cheeks.

King Theoden walked down the steps of the Hall and looked on with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. He had already donned the golden armor of Rohan, and a cape billowed from his shoulders. Gamling came behind him with an equal expression of awe on his face.

The one leading the Elven army was none other than Haldir. His head was devoid of helmet, and his golden hair shone softly in the gloom. When all the archers passed through the Gate, they stopped and turned towards the main stairs in perfect unison. Haldir stepped forward and bowed with respect.

Theoden slowly stopped in his tracks. "How is this possible?"

Haldir looked up with a slight smile. "I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell. An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago, we fought and died together. We come to honor that allegiance."

Aragorn flew down the steps to stop in front of the Elf and looked at him with open and unbidden joy.

"Welcome, Haldir!" he exclaimed in Elvish.

Haldir extended his hand, but Aragorn grabbed him in a huge embrace instead. Haldir's eyes widened a bit in surprise before he placed both hands lightly on Aragorn's shoulders.

Legolas also came to salute him, and the two Elves clasped each other's forearms in solidarity.

"Ha!" Gimli's voice boomed from the top of the stairs. He was still clad in his over-sized chainmail. "I have never been happier to set eyes on an Elf."

Haldir's eyes were placid. "Lady Galadriel conveys her greetings."

At this, Gimli blushed and quickly trod away while mumbling under his breath.

Haldir turned back towards King Theoden, his face now grave. "It is best if we get into battle formation. The Uruk-hai were right on our tails."

Theoden quickly nodded and started shouting orders for battle. All around, Men hurried away to their pre-assigned positions behind the wall.

Legolas grabbed Haldir by the arm. "What news from the East?"

Haldir threw a piercing glance at Aragorn, who was listening in. "There will be time for this later."

He started marching away with his army of archers.

"So it is true?" Aragorn whispered behind him.

Haldir halted for a second, but then pursued his way without answering as his red cape billowed behind him.

A shudder went through Aragorn. That had been as clear an answer as any.

* * *

Sam woke up in a startle, the last remnants of his nightmare still swimming in front of his eyes. It was morning, but the darkest morning he had ever set eyes upon. Outside the window of the room, he could see dark clouds rolling. The air was heavy with a sizzling malevolent energy, and he found himself gasping for breath as he raised his head to look around the room.

Last night, he had fallen asleep by Frodo's bed as he kept vigil over his master. Frodo had fallen asleep curled up on his side with the blanket tightly gripped in his hands, but now the bed was empty and the blanket was draped across Sam's own shoulders. Sam stood up abruptly and looked around the room, not minding the blanket crumpling to the ground.

The room was deserted as well. Panic seized him as he threw open the door and ran out into the courtyard with the white dead tree in the middle. The four guards were still guarding it, standing as still as if made of metal and stone.

The gardener meant to run to them to ask them if they had seen Frodo, but then remembered the guards had taken a vow of silence.

Looking around some more, his eyes suddenly fell on a figure standing behind the protective wall of the courtyard at the far end of the triangularly shaped aspect of this uppermost level of Minas Tirith.

Sam ran towards him and finally arrived behind Frodo, panting from the wild dash. His master was looking eastwards, towards the red fires beyond the mountains of Mordor. From this height, they could see the city of Osgiliath as a white mass of buildings at the line where the dark sky met the yellow plains.

Frodo was wearing a white shirt too big for him, no doubt borrowed from Faramir or some other Man. The wind was strong on this day, and his shirt was being blown up and then battered this way and that. His dark curls were also ruffling madly around his head.

Without turning around, Frodo said to Sam: "They have taken the city of Osgiliath."

Sam barely managed to hear him over the wind. He squint his eyes, but could not make out any movement in the faraway city.

"I cannot tell from here."

Frodo turned around, and his face looked better than Sam had expected. "I cannot either," Frodo replied, "but I have a feeling it is true."

Seeing the reddened cheeks of his gardener, he showed the hint of a smile. "Good morning, Sam. If this can be called a morning."

Sam studied him intensely, and could not help feeling a wave of relief at seeing that Frodo's eyes no longer held that hollowness that had haunted him ever since they had escaped Mordor. Whatever Faramir had done, it seemed to have worked a little.

"Morning?" he groaned. "It is darker than midnight!"

Frodo nodded and resumed looking at the city.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" the gardener inquired.

"Not yet," Frodo replied. "I have been told it is being served in the hall, but I told the Man to bring it to my chambers instead. I do not wish to run into Lord Denethor again."

At this, his hands brushed slightly over the marks on his neck. Sam did not know what to say to that, so he remained quiet. Frodo turned to face him once more, but his eyes did not look troubled at the recollection of what had transpired the day before.

"Let's go back in. The wind is getting too strong."

Sam marched behind him in silence until they were back in the room where they had slept. A platter was lying on the single round table, carrying fruits, bread and butter in meagre portions. However, it was more than enough in these times of war.

The two hobbits sat and broke their fast. Sam noted with satisfaction that Frodo ate an apple, an orange, and a whole loaf of bread. In spite of these positive signs, a remnant of worry continued to gnaw at him. Was his master truly fine?

Frodo took one glance at Sam's face and guessed at his thoughts. "I'm not fine, Sam. But I will be. I have despaired for way too long already. Even if the Ring has been taken, I am still the Ring-bearer. I know it must sound strange, but the responsibility that I feel towards it has not disappeared. It will not disappear until the day I destroy it or until the day I die trying to."

Sam slowly let out the breath he had been holding, and showed a genuine smile for the first time in ages. "You sound more like yourself, Mr. Frodo."

After eating, Frodo walked to a chair beside the bed on which he had lay down all his possessions. One by one, he lifted them and let them rest on his hands as he looked at them. There was the torn elven cape that Allie and Pippin had wrapped around his broken hand. His fifth digit that the Uruk-hai had broken still throbbed, but he could contend with the pain.

There was the phial of Galadriel; the light that had subsided inside the liquid was gone, and its contents now looked like normal water. Frodo suspected the star of Earendil had given its last boost of light back on the plains of Gorgoroth.

There was his mithril shirt.

And finally, there was Sting.

He eyed them all for a moment. Each of these possessions was precious to him, and each had saved his life at one point or another.

Slowly, Sam reached for his belt and deposited a dusty waterskin beside Frodo's possessions. Frodo's eyes widened a bit at the sight of it, and he turned to Sam.

"It's the last of the Ent water Pippin and I carried from Fangorn Forest. I don't know if it will be of use to us, but I think you should have it."

Frodo weighed the waterskin in his hands, and for the first time, thought about what it meant for Allie. If she drank this, she could revert back to her hobbit self. If she drank it every day, couldn't she keep her hobbit form forever?

Sam seemed to guess at his thoughts. "Pippin told me it only lasted seven days the first time he drank it. The second time, it was only two days from what I gathered, but that might be because he was too close to the Ring."

"It might not work after a while," Frodo concluded.

Sam nodded darkly.

Frodo sighed dejectedly and put the waterskin back on the bed. At this point, it was useless to think about anything further than surviving the upcoming war. Perhaps he would meet with Allie on the battlefield. He did not like to think of that eventuality, but at least that way he would be able to meet her. He could not help her if he could not be reunited with her.

Feeling determined, he grabbed Sting and headed outside once more. Sam followed him silently.

Frodo walked towards the stairs and started descending to the level below. The streets were silent and deserted, but he could hear the distant clamor of people getting ready for war from the lowermost levels of the city. Catapults were being set up as soldiers ran to and fro, urging the common folk to climb up to higher levels where they would be safer. The uppermost levels where the main Hall was situated seemed like a graveyard in contrast to the bursts of activity below.

Frodo climbed down the stairs until the green courtyard and the white tree were out of view. He passed by a set of thick metal gates and came upon the level below, where he saw an open space enclosed by three walls and a tree.

He stepped inside the yard and Sam stopped beside the tree, watching him.

Frodo looked up at the black skies and then slowly unsheathed Sting. The half healed bone on his fifth digit throbbed achingly, but it felt good to be holding the hilt of his sword again. Taking in a deep breath, Frodo lifted it and slid into a fighting posture. From there, he started to work on his swordplay, slashing at the air and pivoting on his bandaged legs. The soles of his feet gave a stretching sensation from time to time, but the pain had mostly subsided thanks to the Kingsfoil.

As his muscles worked and beads of sweat formed on his forehead, he forced himself to keep his breathing steady as he kept his eyes on the glint of Sting's blade. He did not know how many heavy thoughts had been on his mind until this improvised work-out forced them out of his head.

As he practiced his swordplay, he slashed open his fears one by one with Sting. Denethor's words, the loss of the Ring, the choking sensation of Sauron's will inside of him, the hideous face of Baadash as the Blood Ring glinted from his finger, the torture inside Barad-dur, the sight of the golden wolf basking in the blinding light of Earendil's star… he slashed them all to pieces until there was nothing left but cold air. The walls of the yard came into focus once more and he saw Sam watching him gravely from his place beside the tree.

And Sam was not alone. Faramir was now also looking on from a few steps behind Sam. Frodo had not heard him arrive, but when he met the Man's eyes, he saw a small smile of approval on his face.

Faramir was wearing his armor of Captain of Guards with the white tree of Gondor embroidered on his chest. Frodo slowly sheathed Sting back into its scabbard and walked towards him while wiping the sweat off his brow with his sleeve.

Sam followed Frodo's gaze and also noticed the Man of Gondor.

"Lord Faramir!" Sam greeted with a hint of surprise.

Frodo stopped in front of the Man and bowed slightly. "Thank you for everything you have done for us so far. I don't know how I will ever be able to repay you for your kindness."

Sam nodded emphatically. "You are a good man, Faramir. Bless you!"

Faramir smiled, but the smile did not quite reach his eyes. "I might be a good man, but my brother is a great man. Frodo, seeing your fighting spirit is enough to repay me. Will you walk with me?"

Frodo and Sam followed after him, and once more ascended to the uppermost level of the city.

"Will the white tree ever bloom again?" Sam wondered upon setting eyes on the gnarled dead branches.

"It will," Faramir stated firmly. "When the true King of Gondor returns."

"Your father is only the Stewart," Frodo pondered. "What are his intentions on Sauron's imminent arrival?"

Faramir stopped below the steps leading into the Main Hall. "We have just had a meeting concerning this matter. His intentions are to engage them in open war from behind the walls of Minas Tirith."

Frodo frowned at his tone. "But you don't think that is wise."

Faramir remained silent for a long while, and Sam and Frodo exchanged a glance. Finally, the Man of Gondor spoke: "You might think me a coward for saying this, but I think it is wiser to evacuate the city. Sauron has obtained the Ring of Power, and he is marching towards us with his full strength. Gondor's army alone will not be able to stop him. He will massacre every man, woman and child, and burn the city to the ground. But my father is proud. He says he will never been known as the Steward who gave up the City of Kings."

"What did your brother say?" Frodo asked.

"Boromir is of the same mind as my father. He says he left Minas Tirith once and almost did not return. He will not leave her again. He is truly father's son."

Frodo thought back to the day before, when Boromir had thrown a punch at Denethor. They must have given up their differences after this war council.

"Courage is needed to fight, but greater courage is needed to flee, especially if it is to leave your home city behind," Sam said. "You are not a coward for trying to do the right thing."

"If the people of Gondor perish, it will be the true end," Frodo agreed. "As long as the people are alive, there is hope to start anew."

Faramir gave them a more genuine smile this time. "It is comforting to know that I do not stand alone in my views."

"You will not be able to convince your father, however," Frodo resumed.

"No," Faramir agreed. "That is the reason why I sought you out today, Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee. "

He started to climb up the steps to the Hall. Frodo paused; did he intend to make them meet with Denethor? He could not see that ending well for either of them. However, Faramir turned and said: "Do not worry. My father is in his chambers, discussing war plans with Boromir. He will not be here."

Frodo and Sam started climbing after him.

Just as Faramir said, the Hall was dark and empty. Frodo had not seen many Halls in his lifetime, but he wondered if they were all as gloomy as this one. Statues of Kings and high columns carved in diverse patterns stood on either side of the long walk leading to the throne. Their steps echoed off the thick walls and vaulted ceiling as they advanced towards it. The air was heavy and stagnant, and it was not easy to breathe.

When they finally reached the throne, they saw a high chair made of ivory sitting on the highest step. Beside it was a smaller chair set on a lower step, no doubt the seat for the Steward. Faramir bypassed the throne to reach the wall behind.

He pushed on it and the wall glided inwards, revealing a dark opening.

"Where are we going?" Sam wondered, his whispered voice echoing through the Hall.

Faramir pressed a finger to his lips and stepped into the opening. Frodo and Sam followed him and found themselves at the foot of long sinewy stairs. Faramir closed the door in the wall behind them.

The stair wound its way upwards, most likely following the course of the tower erected behind the Hall. At the end of their climb, they emerged up on a narrow parapet that led to another tower that seemed to be built from the mountain side itself. The wind was strong up on the parapet, and no words were exchanged as the Man and the two hobbits crossed their arms across their chests and lowered their heads as they crossed it.

They reached the tower stuck to the mountain and Faramir pushed open the heavy doors. Torches were lit inside the round chamber. There was a funeral pyre in the middle of it, and dark hallways extended into the gloom from the chamber.

"This is the Tombs of the Kings," Faramir announced solemnly. "The past Kings of Gondor lie in these vaults."

"Why have we come here?" Frodo asked. His voice echoed gloomily on the torch-lit walls

He highly doubted this was a simple tour of the most private sector of Minas Tirith.

The fires from the torches seemed to dance in Faramir's eyes as shadow and light alternated on his face. Sam frowned and felt himself tense up, but the Man of Gondor simply said in a soft voice: "Because I have a favor to ask of the both of you."

He stepped beside the funeral pyre and started pushing on its heavy mass. Slowly, with a rumbling sound, the stone glided sideways, revealing a wooden door on the stone floor. Faramir pulled on the latch with both hands, grimacing with the effort, and finally the door opened in a cloud of dust.

Grey steps descended into the gloom.

"A secret passage?" Sam wondered.

Faramir turned towards them. "It is a passageway that leads directly into the mountains. It is a secret way to leave the city."

"You mentioned a favor," Frodo reminded him. "But if you mean for us to leave the city before Sauron comes, I will not abide it."

Sam nodded fiercely as well.

Faramir smiled a slight. "I know that, Master Baggins. That is not what I am asking of you. This artificial passage will join the natural mountain trails excavated by my ancestors in the eventuality that the city might fall to our enemies. There are tens, perhaps hundreds of trails in those mountains, but only one leads to the exit that is situated at the boundary between Gondor and Rohan. All the others will result in dead-ends. The trails have been made to throw off any eventual pursuers."

The hobbits were slowly beginning to understand.

"No one has used this exit for hundreds of years, thus the knowledge of the right path has been long lost. Your task, if you shall accept it, will be to find the right trail. Not ___if_, but ___when_ the war turns sour, I want you to guide the people of Minas Tirith to safety. It will not be easy. I hear Goblins and other foul creatures dwell in the belly of the mountains. However, if only we knew the right path, we might have a chance to survive. I want you to find that path before Sauron's army comes through our gates."

The hobbits were silent for a few seconds, but then Frodo said: "You can count on us. How much time do we have?"

Faramir shook his head. "A few days at the most."

Sam considered the task ahead. It seemed impossible to scan through hundreds of mountain paths in just a few days. Faramir's eyes said that he knew it all too well. However, Frodo clasped a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"We have Hunter with us."

Sam's eyes brightened at this. He had not thought of the wolf. To Faramir, he said: "All right, we shall try to the best of our abilities."

Faramir was clearly relieved. "That is more than I hoped to hear from you, my friends. You must depart as soon as you can." His eyes fell on Frodo. "But first, come with me, there is something that I wish to give you."

Faramir let the latched door fall closed once more, and pushed the pyre back into place.

* * *

The rain seemed to be made of black ink as it splashed down onto metal armors, helmets and lances. All around Aragorn, a Man and an Uruk-hai fought, their bodies tangled together. They almost looked as though they were embracing, if not for the gleaming edge of a blood-stained sword suddenly piercing through the Man's back.

Aragorn knew they were losing.

Just moments before, a large and pale Uruk had run into the gutter of Helm's Deep with a torch. Some kind of device created by Saruman had been set there in advance, and at the contact of the flame, it had created such a powerful explosion that an entire section of the wall had been blown to pieces, making Men and Uruks alike fly and crash.

From the breach thus created, water had flowed in, and with the water had come the main part of the Uruk-hai army. Aragorn had stumbled back to his feet, trying to ignore the ringing in his ears and the double vision of his eyes.

From up on the walls, the Elven archers had released a flock of arrows on the incoming Uruk-hai, killing most of them. Still, more had kept pouring in through the opening. Aragorn had looked behind him at the Elves and had held his sword at the ready.

"Charge!" he had shouted in Elvish, and then had lunged forward without looking whether the Elves would follow him.

But followed him they had.

Their bodies collided with those of the Uruk-hai, and the sound of swords whooshing and people dying rose in the air. Aragorn let out a hollow cry and thrust his swords as though it was an extension of his own arm. Droplets of rain mixed with sweat flew from his dark hair as he twirled around himself and felled his enemies.

With a glint of hope, he noticed that they were steadily gaining ground on the invading Uruks.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Gimli sputtering in the water nearby. He reached an arm and grabbed the Dwarf by the collar of his chainmail, dragging him back to safety.

Distantly, a cracking and yielding sound indicated that the turtle that the Uruk were manning on the causeway had managed to once more break through the gates.

Suddenly, King Theoden's voice resonated from above, calling to the combatants down below: "Fall back to the Keep! Aragorn, get your Men out of there!"

Aragorn did not waste time.

"To the Keep! Pull back to the Keep!" he bellowed in Elvish as he signaled to the fighters.

The Elves scrambled to obey the order. Looking around for anyone who might not have heard, the Ranger's eyes fell on Haldir still battling it out on the wall above.

"Haldir! To the Keep!" he yelled over the ruckus of battle.

Haldir gave a brief nod and started fighting his way down. Aragorn eyed the enemies standing in his way and hurried up the stairs to help clear a path for him from below.

An Uruk fell before Haldir and the Elf made short work of him with his long Elvish blade. He blinked sweat out of his eyes and looked around airily. Aragorn felt apprehension at seeing the Elf lose his focus.

"Behind you!" he shouted in alarm as another Uruk emerged from the ladder and climbed on top of the wall behind Haldir.

The Elf twirled around abruptly, making his red cape flap like a flag. His blade flashed white as a wound opened up on the Uruk's chest and the latter dropped at his feet, dead.

Aragorn retrieved his sword from the neck of the enemy he had just slayed and forcefully went up another few steps towards Haldir. Faintly, he heard Legolas yell his name.

Haldir felled another enemy, but an Uruk-hai with a large battle axe managed to creep up on him from behind.

"Haldir!" Aragorn shouted hoarsely as the battle axe buried itself deep between the Elf's shoulder blades.

Haldir gasped silently, not even feeling the pain, but only a kind of deadly numbness. A second later, his knees weakened and gave way under his weight. As he fell down, his eyes slowly roamed across the ground of the wall littered with corpses of Elves, Men and Orcs, all drenched by the same black rain.

Rivulets of liquid coursed through the fallen corpses, branching out and spreading.

He fell, expecting the harsh cold ground, but firm arms caught him instead.

Aragorn's anxious face floated in front of his blurring vision. Feeling blood mounting up his airways, he struggled to raise his right hand. Why was it so heavy? All his life, this hand had swung a sword faster than the eye could see. It had pulled arrows and released them from the hard string of his bow before his enemies had time to turn their heads. And yet now, it took him all he had just to lift it.

Aragorn's calloused hand met his in mid-air and gripped it tightly.

"Haldir! Hang on!"

But Haldir knew it was over for him. His lips moved faintly as he struggled to speak.

Aragorn leaned closer to Haldir's moving lips.

"…back…" Haldir babbled through the foam of blood forming at the corners of his lips.

"What?" Aragorn urged.

"He's… back…" Haldir coughed. "The hobbits… help…"

He drew a shaky breath and fell still. Aragorn gazed at the Elf's pallid face with a heavy stillness in his chest, and then he gently closed the Elf's eyes.

An Uruk groaned behind him and Aragorn picked up his sword and whirled around with a cry of rage.

As his sword flashed around him, seeming almost animated of a life of its own, his mind tried to reconcile what Haldir's last words had meant.

He was back. Sauron was back. The hobbits needed help. They had to be alive to need help. He needed to survive this battle. He must.

Seeing a group of approaching Orcs, he leaped onto one of the ladders and crashed into their midst with a wild cry and a determined fierceness in his piercing eyes.

* * *

Allie ran through the empty tunnels of the caverns underneath Isengard with eyes that shone brightly in the dark. She was finally free from her cell, but her movements were tainted with fear. The weight of this one chance for salvation was heavy upon her shoulders. As she ran, she had the impression that the irregular walls were closing in on either side of her. She had forgotten how much she hated dark places like this.

How had Grima disappeared so fast? She could not see his fading light at all now.

As she continued running, she tuned her mind to the flow of the Blood.

"Wolves! Can you hear me? Pippin? Hunter? Councillor? Informant?"

There was no answer.

"Wolves!" she thundered louder. "Are you there? Can you hear me?"

She gritted her teeth at the heavy silence. Saruman had cast an enchantment on her cell to prevent her from communicating with the outside, but the fact that she was still cut off from her pack meant that he must have cast more enchantments over the whole of Isengard. Why would he do that? And when did he do it?

The cold certitude that the Wizard already knew of her escape pierced her.

No matter. She still had to try her hardest to get out of here.

She emerged from the tunnel that she had been following and stopped herself just in time to avoid a tumbling fall down the sharp ravine that suddenly opened up in front of her feet. Down below, distant fires burned faintly. The sounds of hammer were reduced to isolated blows, and the sizzling of molten metal poured into sword molds could no longer be heard.

Grima had said the army had already marched out. No wonder the forges were empty.

She stuck her back to the wall and crawled sideways until she reached the entrance of another, larger tunnel.

There was a current of air blowing across her face as she followed it. It carried the scent of moisture and decay. Feeling her chest tighten up, she screamed again through the Blood: "Wolves! Can you hear me? I command you to answer! Answer me!"

She tripped and crashed into the humid wall to her right. The freshly healed wound on her neck gave her a sharp pain, and she quickly touched two fingers to it, afraid that it was bleeding again. However, the mud that Baadash had applied on it still felt solid to her touch.

When she stumbled up on her feet, the chain holding the half-moon pendant broke, and the moon-shaped stone fell to the ground. She did not notice, and continued on forward jerkily.

"___Help me._"

She froze at the sound of the voice and then looked around wildly to see who had spoken. However, the tunnel was dark and empty both in front and behind her.

"___Help me,_" came the voice again.

She stopped breathing when she realized that the person was speaking to her through the Blood. How could this be? Only wolves of her pack could speak to her in such fashion. Had one of her wolves been captured by Saruman? No, it couldn't be. She did not recognize this voice.

She walked forwards carefully, ardently wishing she still had her sword.

"Who are you?" she asked carefully.

"___Help me_," the voice repeated.

It was flat and expressionless, with no note of desperation to accompany the request.

Allie felt chills run up and down her arms when she recognized the voice as female.

A wolf Queen. Impossible. Queens could not communicate with each other via the same Blood link. She had never heard of such a thing.

The tunnel she was following came to an end and she found herself standing at the intersection with a much wider tunnel. She turned left there and followed the scent of decay, until she reached the stone cave that she had passed by on her way to her own cell a few days ago.

The pitiful wolf from Galadriel's mirror was chained there. Its fur was so dirty and knotted that it was hard to tell what color it had been. Its eyes were half-open, but only white showed in them. Its black tongue was sliding out of yellow and rotten teeth. A swarm of flies circled around its head and muzzle, sometimes settling on its tongue.

Allie approached the wolf carefully, feeling dread and disgust with every closer step she took. The wolf had to be dead. She could not hear its heart nor lungs working.

And yet, a feeling rooted deep within her told her the wolf was still alive. It told her this wolf was the one who had spoken to her and had pleaded for help.

Her grey eyes suddenly settled on a bowl of water near the wolf's head. There were particles of rust floating in it and its color was all wrong, but she still seized it madly with both hands and drank it till the last drop. She hadn't realized how thirsty she had been. She let the empty bowl clatter to the dirty ground, and reported her attention back to the decaying body of the wolf.

"I am here," she said. "Was it you who spoke to me?"

She recoiled involuntarily when the wolf's eyes opened a bit wider, showing no pupil but a thick, white membrane.

"Yes," the voice resonated inside of her.

Allie looked around them, but they were still alone for the time being. She knew she could not linger here.

"Who are you?" she asked again.

"I am your mother."

Allie backed away in horror, her mind reeling.

"No," she babbled. "My mother died giving birth to me! There is no way…!"

Silence stretched for an eternity, it seemed, before the wolf said: "I am the mother of all wolves. I am the first wolf created by the Blood."

Allie slowly covered her mouth with her hand and gently knelt in front of the wolf.

"Tell me what you know of wolves and the Blood! Tell me how our race came to be!"

"Yes, I suppose this is where my fate ends."

Allie did not understand. "Your fate?"

Even though the wolf was conversing with her faintly, but quite audibly, its physical body was as still as that of a corpse with no elevation of the chest nor the trembling of an ear to mark its words.

"I shall tell you my story, young Queen."

Gently, Allie placed a hand on top of the wolf's head. It was cold and hard. The fur was coarse and brittle under her palm. For how long had she been here? What had Saruman done to her?

"Nothing is evil in the beginning," the wolf started. "Even Sauron was not so. He was an angelic spirit at first, one who then entered the physical world and became a Valar. It was later that he fell from grace and into the depths of evil. He became an agent of chaos and changed his name to Sauron as we now know him."

Allie did not know what Sauron's origins had to do with them, but still, she listened quietly.

"In the Second Age of this world, he approached the Elven-smiths of Eregion, led by Celebrimbor. He charmed them and deceived them, and incited them to forge the Rings of Power. He had a hand in the creation of the Nine and the Seven, but the Three Rings detained by the Elves were forged by Celebrimbor himself without Sauron's help. Then, secretly in the depths of Mount Doom, he created a Master Ring. One Ring to rule them all."

Yes. The One Ring that could affect the Blood.

"Creating the Ring simultaneously strengthened and weakened Sauron's power. As long as Sauron has it, he is close to invincible, for the Ring multiplies his strength and his magic and allows him to control his Servants and the Bearers of the other Rings of Power. On the other hand, Sauron put too much of himself in this Ring and thus became dependent on it. The Ring is a part of him. The part of him that is evil, selfish and greedy. Whoever bears this Ring has those characteristics enhanced within them, thus making them fall prey to its corruption after a time of exposure."

Allie had seen what the Ring had done to Gollum and Boromir.

"However," the wolf pursued quietly, "to put so much evil within the Ring would also mean that the last bit of goodness that still remained within him would prevail in his physical body. Sauron did not want that. That part of him that was good had made him hesitate in the past, it had troubled his sleep as he followed his plans to chaos, and he did not wish to suffer through that again. In order words, he wanted to discard the last bit of conscience that still remained within him. As the One Ring was being forged, his evil flew into it, and his conscience was discarded into the air. The part of him that he threw away was only energy at first, flowing through the world and carried by the wind. As it left Mordor, it gradually gained a conscience of its own. As it gazed down on the trees and fields and animals underneath, it started to long for a physical body. However, so much energy is hard to contain in a single place. The first vessel that was strong enough to contain all of it was a young she-wolf hunting in the northern mountains. It was me."

"What?!" Allie exclaimed as she shook her head numbly. She had a piece of Sauron inside of her! Was that what this wolf was saying? She felt a surge of disgust so strong that she felt the impulse to the cut herself open to get rid of this entity inside of her.

If the wolf lying immobile on the ground sensed her distress, it did not show it. Instead, it pursued the story-telling: "Sauron's discarded will talked to me. I had always been an intelligent being. I knew how to set traps for my prey. I knew the laws of my pack. I understood the meaning of being loyal to my mate. However, when that new conscience impregnated me, I started seeing the world like I had never seen it before. I started understanding the speech of humans, and emotions foreign to me filled me up until I thought I would burst. This entity that we now call the Blood asked me for my help in exchange for the new level of intelligence that it provided me with. The Blood told me it was too strong to be contained by my body alone, that I needed to spread it among many other physical bodies. And so, I transferred him to all the wolves of my pack, and by doing so, the conscience of the Blood linked us together. I also realized that the Blood could be transferred to humans. Only, it seems their bodies are not fit to contain the Blood. Perhaps it is because they have a strong conscience of their own, and they would rather commit suicide than accept to co-habit in such close quarters with another conscience. In any case, the presence of the Blood mutates the body of humans into that of a wolf, the only living container that seems to be satisfying for the Blood's purposes."

After the wolf's last words stopped resonating inside her mind, Allie let the silence stretch as she tried to process the things she had heard. She had not been aware that she had been clasping her head until she let her hands drop on her lap once more.

"So," she asked in a voice that sounded thick and foreign to her own ears, "can you still talk to this… to the... Blood?"

"No," the wolf answered, "its ability to communicate directly with me dissipated as its will was spread through the increasing number of bodies. It has been stretched so wide that for centuries it could not even remember who it initially was. But now, things are changing."

"Because of the Quest? Because Sauron has regained the One Ring?" Allie ventured.

"That is part of it. The other reason simply being your existence."

"My existence?" Allie echoed apprehensively.

"You have been putting the Blood back together. In your younger years, you killed most of the wolf Queens and ate their hearts. By doing so, you were condensing the conscience of the Blood back into a single spot. That spot being you."

Allie let out a small baffled breath.

"And because of how close you have been to the One Ring, the Blood is re-awakening. It is remembering who it used to be."

Allie clasped a hand through her wild curls. "By the Gods," she let out shakily. "But I didn't know! What will happen when the Blood re-awakens?"

"I do not know," the mother of wolves conceded, "but there is something you have to keep in mind. The Blood is the part of Sauron that Sauron has discarded. It was the part of Sauron that was good. It was his conscience."

Allie tried to calm herself as she pondered over the possibilities. "If the Blood re-awakens, it might side with us."

"It will not side with you, but it might share a common purpose with you," the wolf said gravely. "Or the years seeing the world through the wolves' eyes might have changed what his conscience used to be, and it might decide to join with Sauron and make him whole again, thus increasing his power. It will be an unpredictable result. But it has not awakened yet. For now, you have to be careful of Saruman the White. He has devised a weapon that can taint the wolves and turn them into mindless beasts."

"Serecor, yes. Is that how he is holding you here?"

"Holding me and turning me into the mother of monstrosities."

Realization hit Allie. "You gave birth to the Wargs!"

There was a moment of silence, and then: "Saruman compels me to bite his Orcs to turn them into Wargs. Then, I order the Wargs to become servants to the Uruk riders."

Suddenly, footsteps resonated down the tunnel, heading their way. Allie's ears picked up the guttural tongue of several Uruk-hai. She stood tensely, wondering what to use to cut the chains that held the mother of wolves prisoner.

"They are bringing more Orcs for me to convert."

"I am getting you out of here."

"No need. You promised to help me. Now is the time."

Allie pulled a rock out of the ground and started hacking at the chains. "That's what I'm trying to do."

"Not this way. I am now too weak to do anything except lift my head and bite the Orcs that are thrown in front of me. It is a tedious job that I wish to put an end to. No, young Queen, you have to kill me. Deliver me from this prison, I beg of you."

Allie was horrified. "But… you are the mother of wolves! And I still have so many questions for you!"

"I have had a plentiful life, way longer than is granted for a simple she-wolf. I am tired now. Please, you have to help me die. Do it before the Orcs arrive."

Allie was frantic. The Uruks' footsteps were faster now and their voices were squawking and urgent. They must have heard her hitting the rock against the chains.

"One last question!" Allie begged. "How can I revert to being a hobbit? There must be a way!"

"Revert? If you have not yet completed your transformation, then you still have a chance. If the Blood leaves your body, you will return to your initial shape. However, if the Blood leaves you once your transformation is complete, then you will remain a wolf until the end of your days. As your body mutates into that of a wolf, your old body is dying. There is no way to return to a body that is already dead."

Allie felt a flare of hope. There was still a chance! Her transformation was not yet complete! If she could figure out how to re-awaken the Blood and made it leave her, then she could be a hobbit again.

"Thank you, mother of wolves!"

"Beware however," the mother warned her. "If Sauron's consciousness leaves you after you have permanently become a wolf, then nothing of you might remain."

Fear seized her. "What do you mean?"

"Your own consciousness might go with his," was all she said. "And you will become nothing but a mere wolf with no recollection of your human days."

The light of the torches that the Orcs were holding could now be seen dancing on the stone walls.

"It is time now," the wolf said.

Allie tried to ignore the savage thumping of her heart at hearing these news. She took a deep breath, and then transformed into the golden beast. The transformation felt like exhaling, as though remaining in her hobbit form had been a long work-out. She did not linger on that thought, but instead approached her muzzle to the neck of the wolf that smelled like death.

The mother of wolves twitched, and her paw moved to touch that of Allie.

"It is now your time to struggle with the weight of this knowledge and with the future of our race. It is a heavy burden, I know it."

"I am sorry you had to live like this, mother," the golden wolf said thickly. "You can rest now."

She sank her fangs into the wolf's neck and felt it snap like a dry twig. The wolf's head detached from its body and rolled away, black tongue lolling. The blood that flew out was black and thick, and it smelled like carrion.

Allie clawed open the mother's chest, and saw the shrunken heart laying there in its cavity. She pulled it out and chewed it. It tasted like hard rubber, but it was warm and the most nourishing thing she had eaten for days.

As soon as she swallowed, her body pulsed and she felt a boost of conscience that spread out from her body in a large circle. The Blood within her stirred and expanded. New links invisible to the eye sprout out from her beating heart and connected themselves with the new wolves and Wargs she had acquired by eating the heart of the mother.

She tensed her muscles and suppressed a howl that wanted to erupt out of her throat. She felt a second of pure elation as her pupils dilated and the Blood roared in her veins. She had an image of a magnificent she-wolf standing by the side of a stream. Her fur was a black so profound that it almost shone dark-blue under the rays of the early sun. Her jaded eyes were full of light and intent as she returned Allie's gaze. Then, her majestic head gave her a single and brief nod as she swung her tail and galloped away.

Allie opened her silver eyes to the gloomy cave and the shrunken mass of the dead wolf still in her chains. If she had the chance later, she would bring the mother's corpse out of this place and to a high headland where her spirit could sing to the moon again.

But not now. Now, she had other business to tend to.

The Orcs were here and they were unsheathing their ugly swords as they charged at her with a string of guttural curses flowing out of their mouths.

"Farewell, mother of wolves," she whispered.

Then, her eyes narrowed and her muzzle distorted into a bloodthirsty wolf smile as she bounded forward, almost eager to tear her enemies to pieces. Before she knew it, she had already killed the five Uruks that had attacked her, along with the Orcs in chains that had been destined to become new Wargs. Soon, they all lay dismembered all around her as their blood splashed the walls.

She shook her head thickly, and then sniffed the air.

She knew which way to go now. The stench of Saruman that had eluded her before was now strong in her nostrils.

The White Wizard would pay for enslaving the mother of wolves and for creating such a foul thing as Serecor, the Blood Ring.

He would pay.

* * *

Another long chapter! :) Thank you for all your kind comments! :D I replied to you all through PMs! :)


	47. The Spell

Hey guys! I seriously don't remember the last time I've updated this fast lol! I'm on break right now, so I'm going to write as much as I can before life gets busy again. Not sure if I can keep the pace of one chapter per week, but it's definitely not gonna be months in between updates anymore XD. Alright so, enjoy reading this chapter and let me know what you think! :)

* * *

**The Spell**

A strong wind was blowing north, filling the black sails of the pirate ships. There were half a dozen of them, and each was full of armed men and watchful wolves. The sides of the galleys were strewn by a row of canon heads glaring out ominously like so many black eyes.

In the main battle ship riding in the middle of the formation, a banner showing a black wolf with bloodied fangs floated from the sail's pole. At the prow of the ship, a decapitated head lay decaying on top of a spike. It had been immersed in tar to keep the insects and bay and slow the decomposition, but already it was hard to tell what its features had looked like when it was still alive.

Standing behind the railing, not far from the head, stood a tall man with raven hair. He was wearing a weathered jacket over his bare tanned chest. His brown trousers were dirtied by mud and blood and were tucked inside black shining boots that contrasted with the rest of him by how clean they looked.

Two curved blades hung at the thick belt around his waist, and a waterskin hung to his right hip. The pirate had his arms crossed, and was looking far ahead down the river, at where the two scouting ships were gliding, each one close to one side of the wide river they were following.

Heavy footsteps behind him made the wood of the deck crack.

"Captain Urithor, the boy is asking for you," a hoarse voice said behind his back.

The raven-haired Man turned around and regarded with eyes black as coal the first mate standing in front of him.

"How is he?"

The first mate was a stout man with a thick black beard. He looked away for a second. "Still the same, Cap."

"Very well. Tell him I shall be there shortly."

The pirate returned his gaze to the river and leaned forward on the railing on both arms. His fingers closed around the wood, and he marvelled for a second at a sensation he had thought long gone for him.

He thought briefly of how he had come to be here. He had run tirelessly south as he bore the waterskin with the Ent water between his fangs, only stopping for short periods of time for a quick rest or when game crossed his path.

When finally he had reached the lands of Umbar, he had wasted no time in finding the stronghold of the Corsair pirates. It was not a difficult task, for the pirates ruled the town with fear and death. They detained the fanciest buildings and had filled the neighboring streets with brothels and gambling taverns.

The leader of the pirates simply went by the name of King. He was drinking at a brothel when Informant found him. The years had claimed all his hair, and he had grown a belly, but that hateful smirk of his under his thick moustache had not changed. He had smirked in exactly the same manner when he had slashed his sword down on Informant and his wife, a lifetime ago now, it seemed.

Informant had looked around at the wolves of his unit who had followed him onto his quest for vengeance. Many times he had snarled at them to go back and aid the other wolves instead, but all of them had resisted and insisted to follow him. The fools!

But now, as he peered inside the well-lit brothel from the darkness of an adjacent alley and listened to the clamors of music and smelled the stench of alcohol drifting out, he looked at his wolves and was filled with joy to be among those who understood him and who would enjoy the carnage that was to come.

"It is time to feed, my brothers. But leave the fat one to me."

His wolves snarled back as their eyes glinted in anticipation.

As one, they leapt out of the dark and entered the brothel to the shriek of customers and whores alike. Many of the women dropped the platters of food they were carrying and scurried frantically to the exit. But the wolves were starving from their long run and Informant's rage was transferred to their own hearts by the Blood link.

Amidst the overturned tables, the crushed grapes and the naked people crawling or dying on the soft carpeted ground, Informant advanced, his yellow eyes shining with intent.

The King was at the far end of the room. He had one naked woman on each lap, and he was looking around with frightened disarray. His guards came from behind the curtains at the sounds of the screams. Upon seeing the wolves, they unsheathed their curved swords with a cry of fear.

One of them had a bow, and he soon unleashed an arrow that pinned one of the wolves to the wall by the throat, killing him instantly. The rest of the wolves stared at their dead comrade with dilated pupils, and then resumed the carnage even more violently. Soon, the King's guards were reduced to dismembered corpses and smears of blood and intestines.

But Informant cared none about any of them. His vengeful yellow eyes were fixed on his prey, and always he trod forward with his trademark wolf-grin.

The pirate King saw him coming, and all color drained from his face.

"Away with you!" he shrieked shrilly as he slapped the two stunned whores aside and reached for his knife. His hands greasy with meat oil slipped on the handle, and the knife cluttered to the floor. The King lurched himself down on his knees to reach it, but Informant swiped it aside carelessly with one of his forepaws.

The King looked up at the wolf grinning down on him like the devil himself, and he let out a whimper like a scared dog. Informant's nostrils twitched when the scent of urine reached him, and he knew the Man had wet himself.

His grin grew, revealing rows of long and pointy teeth.

"_I should have done this a long time ago,"_ he growled low in his throat.

The King startled at growl, unable to hear the words, and jerked back to land on his buttock.

"Please…" he begged.

Informant trod forward and put both forepaws on the Man's bulging belly. Slowly, he ran one of his paws downwards, watching as his claws opened up four bloody trails on the pale stomach.

The King wailed in pain and incomprehension. This was no normal wolf behaviour. And why was he grinning, as though he were sentient? As though he were capable of enjoying the suffering of his prey? He stared up into the wolf's yellow and expressive eyes. He suddenly thought he had seen them before.

"W-Who are you?" he wailed again.

Informant clawed his stomach open all the way and pulled his entrails out with his teeth. The King of Corsairs let out a scream that was barely human.

Yes, Informant reflected, quite like the sound of a cow that he had killed in much the same way, once.

"_Who am I?"_ the wolf grinned. _"I am death."_

The King had a brief view of pink muscles coated with saliva working inside a distended jaw lined with monstrous teeth, before he knew no more.

Informant spit back the decapitated head of the King and walked to where he had left his waterskin. He brought it to a platter and then carefully uncorked it with his teeth. Clear liquid spurted out to fill the platter. Informant lapped up the water, tasting its fresh and sweet quality with appreciation.

All around him, the brothel had become a slaughterhouse as blood ran red everywhere.

When the screams had all subsided and the dying men had stopped twitching, some of the wolves started to feast on the intestines and other internal organs, the good parts, whereas others simply groomed themselves or wandered around to explore the place.

When the King's reinforcements came at dawn, the sight that welcomed them was that of a bloody brothel littered with corpses being feasted upon by wolves.

And in the middle of it all, they saw a naked man with raven-hair slowly stand up. His feet were bathing in a pool of blood as he slowly lifted the King's head on a spear, and clamored:

"I am Prince Urithor, the last descendant of the Castamiri. I am the rightful heir to this land and to its ships. Obey me, serve me, and you shall know glory. Oppose me, lie to me, and you shall join your treacherous King!"

One of the pirates dropped his weapon. "Prince Urithor?" he echoed in dismay. "I thought you had perished!"

He was an old man, and something about him seemed familiar to Informant, but he could not recall now. So many memories from when he was human still remained fuzzy in his mind.

However, he still laughed at the Man's words. "I have perished. I have died a million deaths, but I have come back for what is mine. I have come back for the blood of my persecutor and I have prevailed at last!"

The old man looked from the bloody head to the naked Prince, and slowly he bowed his head. Many of the pirates imitated him, while others hissed and gripped their weapons harder.

Urithor's grin enlarged at the sight of them. Suddenly, the wolves all around him sprang forward and leapt towards those who had not bowed. The Men raised their arms with cries of alarm, but very soon it was all over for them.

Those who came after them quickly threw down their weapons and bowed their heads as well, indicating submission.

Prince Urithor looked at them all with those coal-colored eyes of his and smiled his wolf smile.

Now, he sighed as he turned around from the prow of his ship.

Finding his son had been relatively simple after that. By asking his newly acquired pirates to poke around and ask questions, he had found that there was only one person who corresponded in age and physical appearance to his son. A family of fishermen had taken him in, and soon enough Urithor had found him.

And now, he was standing in front of the closed door to the small cabin. He knocked on the wood twice.

"Enter," a young voice said from the inside.

Urithor stepped in silently and closed the door behind him. A single oil-lamp lit up the dim room, revealing a thin silhouette sitting on his bunk. The room smelled damp and all wrong, no wonder the boy had been so sickly.

Urithor lit up another oil lamp and then sat down on a chair facing him. The new light revealed a pale face rimmed by black locks of hair. When the boy looked up, Urithor marvelled once more at his jaded eyes that reminded him so cruelly of those of his wife's.

"I want to go home," the boy said determinedly, without pre-amble.

Urithor sighed. "Gritt, we have been through this."

"I still don't understand! You are going to war, aren't you? Why are you bringing me with you?"

A flash passed through Urithor's eyes. "To make a man out of you. You are my son and my heir. It is about time you learn the trade."

"But this is no trade! This is war!"

"How can you be so cowardly?" Urithor exploded, looking at the ungainly body of his son. "You have been casting nets and swinging fish poles for far too long. You are a warrior, Gritt. There is no better place to learn than a battlefield."

Gritt looked down, and for a moment Urithor thought he was going to be sick. "But I am no warrior, father. Two weeks ago, I didn't even know you were my father! For all my life, I thought I was a son of simple fishermen. That's what I'm good at, and that's what I see myself doing until I'm old. I can't hold a sword and kill people! That is not me!"

"Do you really see yourself fishing until you die of old age? Have you never, not even once, imagined something more adventurous, more exciting for your life? You have my blood, Gritt. The blood of a prince. Look at me, and tell me that you have never yearned for something more!"

Gritt looked up at him in spite of himself. He studied the fierce man with raven hair sitting in front of him. He still could not believe he was his father.

"I haven't," he let out in a small voice.

"Then you will," Urithor said brusquely and stood up. "You are my blood. Come on deck this afternoon. You will resume your lessons with Dragut. If you have the energy to talk back to me like this, then you have the energy to hold a sword."

He walked towards the door.

"Why?"

The simple word stopped him.

"Why what?" he asked without turning back.

"Why did you have to find me?" the boy muttered. "I was happy."

Urithor grit his teeth. "Because I don't have much time left. You will learn to be happy here."

"Are you dying?" And then, after a pause: "You want me to inherit your ships, don't you?"

Urithor looked back at the boy sitting on his bunk. He hadn't expressed sadness nor sympathy at the prospect of him dying. That hurt more than he expected. But then again, he couldn't blame the boy. He had imposed himself on him, tearing him away from everything he had ever known.

"You have brains, boy," was all he said. "You will inherit the ships only if you are proven worthy of them. In the meantime, go train yourself!"

"Is it true that you command the wolves?" the boy asked again in a low voice. "Are you really my father? Are you even human? Who are you really?"

He backed away at the sudden glint in his father's eyes. All his senses suddenly told him he had a crossed a line with a very dangerous person.

"I am your father," Urithor stated, and then grinned bitterly. "As for the rest, you shall have your answers soon."

That being said, he exited the cabin and let the door fall shut behind him.

* * *

Allie neared the _palantir_ chamber of Orthanc as silent as a shadow. The tall gates, from where she was about to enter, reached up to touch the high vaulted ceiling.

The golden wolf could not yet see Saruman, but she could hear his low rumbling voice. She had come to seek him out of vengeance, but as his voice became words that she could understand, doubts started to assault her. How could she kill him if she could not get past the Blood Ring? Wasn't there any weakness that she could exploit?

She suddenly remembered the one time in which she had managed to escape its hold on the plains of Gorgoroth. Baadash was making her crush Pippin with her will while Frodo was about to be killed by an Orc. She had a felt a surge of despair so profound that it had made her black out. When she had come to herself again, she had realized her body had moved to interpose itself between Frodo and the Orc. She had not done that consciously and so did not know how to replicate it.

Perhaps she had only managed that feat due to her strong desire to protect Frodo. But Frodo was not here now.

She had to stop and brace herself. She had not allowed herself to think of him ever since that horrible dream. Thinking of him made her chest tighten and her heart ache painfully.

She took a deep breath and tried to hold it together. No, she had to face the Wizard. If she escaped and returned to Frodo, and Saruman came after her with Serecor again, she would be a danger to everyone around her, especially Frodo. She had to destroy the Blood Ring here, or die trying. There was no other way.

Still sticking to the wall and making herself small, she silently crawled forwards and into the chamber itself.

"The world is changing," Saruman's deep voice was saying. "Who now has the strength to stand against the armies of Isengard and Mordor? To stand against the might of Sauron and Saruman and the union of the two towers?"

The wolf crawled a bit closer and made out Saruman standing near the center of the chamber, next to a pedestal. His white cape flowed down his shoulders, and silver hair cascaded down his back. She could not see who his interlocutor was.

"The Old world will burn in the fires of industry. The forests will fall. A new order will rise. We will drive the machine of war with the sword and the spear and the iron fists of the Orc."

Saruman seemed immersed in his plans of destruction. Allie slowly edged sideways until she saw the black orb of a _palantir_ nestled in Saruman's hand. Within its depth, there was a giant all clad in metal sitting on the throne of bones that she was all too familiar with.

"Together, my Lord Sauron, we shall rule this Middle-earth," Saruman finished with a smile.

Allie could not see if Saruman was holding Serecor. She looked around and, with a startle, spotted Grima standing in the corner between two large columns. His black coat was almost confounding him with the shadows casted by the marble structures.

Allie froze. Why was Grima here? Had he failed to escape? In that case, Saruman must already be aware of her own escape! Her silver eyes darted to the magician, but he was still staring into the _palantir_. She fixed Grima again, and Grima looked back at her, his face unreadable. However, he did not raise the alarm.

Suddenly, dark and hollow laughter echoed from within the _palantir_.

"We shall rule this Middle-earth together when you manage to rule your own puny tower first. I have no more time to exchange pleasantries with you, Saruman. I am joining my army to crush Gondor to a fine dust. With any hope, Elendil's heir will be crushed along with it like the cockroach that he is. After I am done with Gondor, I will come to collect your bones, if there are still any left."

He laughed again as the _palantir_ went dark. Saruman's hand trembled as a flash of rage crossed his eyes. He deposited the _palantir_ down roughly as he tried to make sense of Sauron's words.

Before he could, he saw a golden flash to his right, followed by a tearing pain down his arm. With surprising agility, he twisted and presented his staff to the threat. An invisible push of magic shot out at the wolf that had attacked him, and he screamed in pain when the magic dislodged the wolf's head from his arm with a chunk of flesh still caught between her teeth.

He looked into burning silver eyes and raised his staff again with hatred contorting his features. "You impudent beast!"

The wolf started darting right and left, back and forth all around the chamber, almost faster than the eye could see. Saruman tried to hit her with bursts of magic, but the speed of the wolf made them all miss. Allie ran in a sharp V in front of him before taking a leap.

The Wizard had a quick glimpse of pointy teeth set in a gigantic jaw before he bent back and avoided a direct hit.

"Grima!" he called. "Use it!"

Grima stood in the corner, his face paler than ever. He seemed transfixed by the battle unfolding in front of him and did not seem to have heard Saruman's words.

A burst of magic from the Wizard's staff chipped the marble stone by Grima's head, and he jumped away from it with a yelp.

"Grima!" Saruman called out again warningly.

Slowly, the Man of Rohan took out Serecor from the depths of his pocket and held it in his trembling hand.

Allie's eyes narrowed and she let out an enraged howl at the sight of the Ring. She changed course for the Man of Rohan instead, and had one second to look into his terrified green eyes. The Man had saved her, so why was he still here? Why was he holding onto _that_?

No matter. She could not allow anyone to interfere with her destruction of Serecor. Filling herself with resolve and killing intent, she dashed towards the Man.

Grima locked eyes with her and shook his head fearfully. "No," he mouthed in a small thin voice. "No."

Allie forbade herself from feeling any sympathy. She could not afford to waste this one chance. She knocked him over with her head, the impact sending the Man tumbling backwards and then falling. The red Ring slipped from his hand and rolled away. Fast as lightning, Allie bounced on it and seized it between her teeth, trying to break it open with the sheer strength of her fangs. Blood dripped down her mouth as one of her fangs dug into her gums painfully.

Still, the Ring remained whole.

Looking around in alarm, she did the only thing she could think of.

She swallowed it.

She felt the disgusting thing glide down her esophagus and swallowed again to make sure it was really down.

There. She'd done it!

She turned around to face the White Wizard again, relief almost making her grin the way Informant would have grinned at the smell of blood after a battle.

However, the White Wizard's face was placid, even slightly amused. Allie put up her guard again immediately.

"So you think you have won?" Saruman asked in that deep voice of his. "It was a well executed attack. You did catch me unaware as I did not expect you so soon. And for that I commend you."

Expect her? So he _did_ know she was coming.

He winced at his now bloodied right sleeve. "But a beast is still a beast. Do you think your level of intelligence can match that of an Immortal?"

He lifted up both hands and clapped slowly three times. The sound echoed darkly around the chamber. Allie felt her heart skip a beat and then fill with horror at the shimmer of red around one of the Wizard's fingers.

"_No…_" she murmured in shock.

Serecor was gleaming blood red right in front of her, and before she could ask herself how that could be, the dreaded and repulsive feeling of something taking control over every cell in her body overwhelmed her again.

So the one Grima was holding had been a fake! She wanted to scream in fury at being duped so completely.

"Transform," Saruman suddenly ordered.

Allie's fur receded slowly and she was a hobbit again, sprawled on the ground on all fours, panting.

"Transform," the Wizard said again.

And she was back to being a wolf.

"Transform, transform, transform," the Wizard continued implacably.

Allie was switching from one form to the other so fast that she was becoming nauseous. She did not understand why the Wizard was subjecting her to this. Every time, it was harder and more painful to go back to being a hobbit. With every transformation, her hobbit body was dying a bit more and the wolf was taking over.

"_Stop it!_" she yelled inside her mind.

But the Wizard's implacable commands continued: "Transform, transform, transform."

Why was he doing this to her? Why did he want her to become a full-fledged wolf?

"You thought you could outsmart me?" she heard through a hazy mist. "You were a pawn playing in my hands since the very start."

She landed on her back in her hobbit self, her hair knotted and messy and spread all over her face. Panting weakly, she stared up at the high vaulted ceiling of darkness and felt the floor swaying nauseatingly underneath her. She had bit her tongue too hard, and now the metallic taste of blood was in her mouth.

"Grima told me you wanted his help to escape," the Wizard pursued, almost amusedly. "Did you truly think one of _my _servants would assist _you_? But I told him to help you escape nonetheless, so that you could meet the mother of wolves and eat her heart. I have no more use for that old fossil. I admit that you have caught me here by surprise as I conversed with the Dark Lord, but that was merely luck, not wit. You are as witless a creature as I thought you are. Even with a piece of the Dark Lord inside of you."

There was a pressure now inside her chest. She plastered a hand there and felt a thrumming inside her chest. It was her heart; it had never beaten this fast in all her life. Did it also sense that the end was near? Once before, when she was still in the Shire, she had caught a hummingbird. She had felt the vibrations of the little bird's heart thrumming inside her ribcage as she had held it in her cupped hands. Now, her own heart seemed to be thrumming in much the same fashion.

She lifted her hobbit hand in front of her wide eyes and studied it with the despair and sense of loss associated with something one saw for the last time. She suddenly knew with piercing certainty that she only had one more transformation left. She could feel it in every fiber of her body. If Saruman asked her to transform one more time, it would be the end of her as a hobbit.

"Do you know what Serecor is?" Saruman spoke again. "It is a portion of the heart of the mother of wolves. I took it out of her and I put it in an artifact made of gold and magic. That is how Serecor came to be. It contains the essence of her power. Being as she is the mother, she is also your Queen; the most powerful Queen of all. As you can submit your subjects with your Blood, I can submit you with the Blood of the mother."

Allie heard footsteps coming towards her, and waited with cold dread for the Wizard's final command of "transform".

She would become a wolf in this horrid and desolate place. She would be the Wizard's slave for as long as she lived. She would never see her wolves again; would never see Frodo again. She would never feel the touch of his hand on her cheek, or the softness of his lips against hers. She would never be able to lose herself in his warm embrace, would never be able to express in words all that she still wanted to say to him.

She let out a howl of agonizing desperation and leaped up to her feet with a tear sodden face. She saw Saruman's surprised face for a second before she crashed into his chest. Grabbing handfuls of his white robe, she pulled so hard that the material tore.

Serecor was burning bright red at his finger and she knew the command was coming. With all her strength, she planted her teeth in the Wizard's arm and bit so hard she drew blood. A scream of pain escaped the Wizard's lips, preventing him from uttering his command, and he hit her in the head with his staff. A cut opened up in her skull, but she kept her teeth in his flesh.

Saruman tried to thrash her off, but his feet got entangled in his tore robes and he went down. Immediately, Allie crawled up his chest like a lizard and then closed her hands around his throat.

Bursts of magic flew out from his staff but they were too hazardous and none of them reached her. The Wizard's black eyes widened as he struggled to breathe. She saw he was trying to use Serecor, but she tightened her hold on his throat, cutting off his windpipe and his vocal chords.

"You can't order me around if you can't talk!" she shouted at him crazily. "You won't take it all away from me! I won't let you!"

Saruman's eyes suddenly looked past her, and she twirled her head around abruptly.

Grima was looming above her with a short knife.

"No, Grima!" she yelled. "Don't you want to be free of him?"

Grima's green eyes wavered with uncertainty. He looked down at the old man struggling underneath her as he seemed to weigh his options.

A shot of magic burst from Saruman's staff again and Grima went flying to the other side of the room. The knife he was holding clattered to the ground beside them with a clunk.

Allie screamed in rage and frustration and pressed down harder on the Wizard's throat. Saruman made a gurgling sound and thrashed violently on the ground.

Suddenly, a piercing pain burst between her shoulder blades. She gasped as she felt a warm trickle of blood run down her spine. In spite of herself, her hold on his throat slackened. There was another sharp pain, this time at her side, and suddenly Saruman was throwing her off him. In his left hand, he was holding Grima's knife. The blade was tainted red with her blood.

She clambered up on her feet, holding the knife cut on her side with one hand.

"Stay still," Saruman ordered hoarsely with Serecor, and Allie felt herself freeze where she was.

Saruman retreated sharply to one corner of the room, still wheezing with a hand to his throat, and then started murmuring some enchantment with his staff directed towards her. The words were merely whispers at first in a language that Allie did not understand, but as the enchantment continued, the whispered words became louder and louder.

From the narrow window behind him, she suddenly saw the skies darken. A whirl of wind entered the chamber and howled as it ran in circles inside the tower, faster and faster, until the giant doors battered and the thick walls creaked and whined and papers flew everywhere.

Allie felt that dark wind on her face and knew in her gut that she could not let him finish the spell.

Letting out a wild cry, she made a step towards him. The Blood was roaring in her veins as a cold sweat broke on her brow. Fighting against Serecor evoked pain in her that she had never known. It was as though her bones were being crushed and acid ate away at her organs. Still, she struggled against that incommensurable will and tried to walk forwards towards Saruman.

"I have the mother's heart inside of me too!" she shouted through the wind.

As though responding to her words, the Blood boiled inside of her and she made another two steps towards the Wizard. She screamed in pain and coughed up a stream of blood that she immediately spit aside.

Saruman saw her advance and gritted his teeth, his black eyes gleaming dangerously under his thick eyebrows. The enchantment continued, gaining in power and magnitude. It was as though he was trying to create a tornado inside the chamber.

Allie continued advancing towards him, her eyes flickering between grey and silver. Half screaming and half sobbing, she thrashed forward against Serecor's will.

Suddenly, the image of the black wolf with the jaded eyes appeared in front of her eyes. "_You have the power to do it. Break free,"_ she told her.

"Mother!" Allie called out desperately.

Her heart had been thrumming crazily in her chest throughout her struggles, but at the words of the mother, it suddenly seemed to burst altogether. Allie screamed in agony, clutching at her chest as her own Blood seemed to erupt out of her and push against the red veil of Serecor. The hold that the Blood Ring had on her became stretched out, like too much air being pumped into a balloon. Its surface thinned until suddenly it snapped and shredded to pieces.

Immediately, hundreds of wolf minds connected with hers once more.

"_Allie? Is that you?" _

"_It's the Queen! She's alive!"_

"_Where is she?"_

"_She's in Isengard!"_

She recognized Pippin's voice, and Hunter's, and Councillor's, and behind theirs, the excited howls of the rest of her pack. Their contact gave her a sudden surge of power.

The Wizard roared out the enchantment more frantically when he saw a crack begin to form on the surface of the Blood Ring.

Her silver eyes bore into the Wizard's frame. She coughed out some more blood and then wiped brusquely at her red chin. In a voice that didn't quite seem her own, she snarled a single word: "Destroy."

"_Allie? Are you safe?"_ Hunter hollered in her mind.

"_Destroy the enemy,"_ she clamored again with a sort of dark might she did not know she possessed. _"Destroy Saruman. Destroy Sauron. Destroy every Orc, and Goblin and Uruk-hai."_

She sensed the minds of the Wargs she had acquired. They were simple-minded creatures, incapable of thoughts that were too complex.

"_Destroy? Kill?"_ they squealed in her mind.

"_Yes. Tear, rip, kill. Start with your riders."_

Another crack appeared on top of Serecor.

The Wizard's white hair was billowing all around him as he bellowed out the final note in the enchantment. The wind died down all of a sudden; pieces of paper twirled down to the ground like scattered feathers from a dying bird.

Allie charged towards him at full speed among the fallen papers and other debris. But the distance between her and the Wizard seemed impossibly, unfathomably, large.

She would not make it in time!

As though in slow motion, she saw the Wizard whip his staff towards her. A black darkness grew at the end of it and then exploded out like lightning.

She jumped sideways to avoid it, but the lightning was like a magnet that seemed to be aiming directly towards her heart. It changed course when she did, and then bore down on her with a crackle of energy. When it reached her, it pierced her like a spear. She landed in a heap of hair and clothes on the ground, immobile.

Saruman panted as he bent forward to lean on his staff. A small victorious smile spread across his lips in spite of the sheen of sweat on his face and the blood trickling down his arm. He took off Serecor and threw it down on the ground, disgusted.

"Useless trinket," he cursed.

* * *

Sam puffed slightly as he followed the light from his master's torch. The new armor that Faramir had given him was an unfamiliar weight on his body. He was surprised they had found an armor of his size. It had belonged to one of Faramir's sparring partners when he had been a boy. The one that Frodo wore belonged to Faramir himself.

After having received the armors, swords and provisions from Faramir for their new quest, the hobbits had found Hunter sitting near the White Tree. Frodo explained to him their mission, and the grey wolf had accepted gravely with a single nod of his huge head.

Now, he was leading the way ahead of Frodo. At every intersection in the mountain trails, he would pause and sniff at the ground. Sam sincerely hoped he could help them find the path leading to the exit. He knew wolves were not mountain creatures. Hunter was out of his comfort zone, so Sam did not know whether his nose was as trustworthy as usual, but his senses were more enhanced than either his or Frodo's. Sam trusted that Hunter would at least sniff out the Goblins or other foul creatures that lurked in these dark places.

Sam was surprised at how easily and naturally he thought about the wolf's assistance. When he had first started marching with the Fellowship, he had thought them to be unnatural creatures, fearsome, cold and bestial. However, after the crazy dangers they had survived together, he had started to trust them and respect them as worthy companions.

The path they were now following was narrow, even for hobbits. Hunter had to squeeze himself through the walls with every step, and Sam felt sorry for him. He wondered how the Big People would be able to escape through here. They would have to crawl, and many would tire out before the end.

No, it was no use having such macabre thoughts.

Suddenly, the trail enlarged and they found themselves in an underground cave. Looking above, they saw rocky cliffs rising up in irregular shapes and disappearing into the gloom. Breathing a sigh of relief at more open space, Sam stopped beside Frodo and Hunter.

"Let us take a quick rest," Frodo proposed.

They had already walked for hours without stopping, although how many Sam could not have told. It was hard to keep track of time in the entrails of the earth. They had entered through the opening under the funeral pyre in the night, but a new day must have already started up there on the surface.

His legs were cramping suddenly at Frodo's mention of rest and he sat down on a boulder gratefully. Frodo did the same beside him with a sigh. Rummaging through their bags, Sam produced some bread and water and handed them out to Frodo.

Hunter sat in front of them and watched them eat. His eye was the only other thing glinting in the darkness except for Frodo's torch. Sam still found the experience eerie to look directly into it, but he was no longer afraid.

He felt Frodo watching him, and turned to face him. His master looked tired at the light of the torch, but he was smiling a little. "What is it, Mr. Frodo?" he asked after swallowing the bread.

"I am thinking that the armor suits you well, Sam."

Sam cleared his throat. "Now, Mr. Frodo. You should be serious. Your armor suits you better. Mine is just for show. I am no soldier."

Frodo's armor was black and gold, with the white tree of Minas Tirith embroidered on his chest. Sting hung at his hip. His master looked like a different person altogether in his new outfit. Sam's armor was red and brown, with the same tree carved on the breastplate.

"You killed a giant spider. And you rode an Oliphant," Frodo stated simply.

Sam could not help the smile that suddenly spread across his face. "Yes, you are right. I rode an Oliphant, didn't I? It was the scariest experience of my life, but also the most memorable! And the spider..." he shuddered. "I am glad you never had to set eyes on her, Mr. Frodo. The old Gaffer will have one or two things to say about that for sure!"

His smile stiffened a bit at the thought of his Gaffer. Would he ever see him again? Would he ever set eyes on the beauty of the Shire again?

"I hope he is doing well, my old Gaffer. He must not have expected me to be gone for so long. He is old now and has more trouble doing his cooking and his gardening. I know Marigold lends him a hand when she can, but as you know, she is always busy with her farm."

"You will see him again, Sam," Frodo reassured him softly.

Sam sighed. "Once all of this is over?"

"Once all of this is over," Frodo affirmed.

None of them mentioned that this might never be over; that it might get worse than how it already was.

Sam took a bite of the stale bread, washed it down with a sip of water and sighed again. "I would give anything for a pint from the Green Dragon right now."

A small nostalgic smile appeared on Frodo's face. "Served in an extra large glass, courtesy of Rosie. She's always made the best pints."

Sam was filled with longing at the mention of her name. "She surely did." His eyes lost their focus as his mind wandered back to the peaceful days in the Shire. "She is such a bright lady, Rosie. She is hardworking and kind. I have never asked much of life, you know? The only thing I wanted, the only dream I ever had, was to be able to marry her and settle down in a fair little smial of Hobbiton with a big flower garden in front. I never wanted to be a hero or to be caught up in the affairs of the outside world. I would have been content to just go home to her every night and to have her smile back at me in that special way that I can't put into words. Do you remember Mr. Bilbo's birthday party, Mr. Frodo? There was music and fireworks and good food. And Rosie in the middle of it all, dancing with ribbons in her hair. I should have told her then. I should have told her."

Sam's face scrunched up and he hid his eyes with a hand.

Frodo clasped a hand to Sam's shoulder. At his garderner's words, an unimaginable sorrow mingled with longing took hold of him as well.

Sam took in a shaky breath and wiped his tears away. "I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo. I have said too much."

"No Sam, I am glad you told me. I understand your feelings. Perhaps more than anyone."

Sam watched him intensely with those kind brown eyes of his and knew he was thinking of her. "You will see her again, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo let his mind wander to her and remembered the way she had looked down at him as she cradled him after he had woken up in that cell at Barad-Dur. There was dirt and blood on her cheek and her blonde hair cascaded down messily around her face, but there was warmth in her smile and love in her eyes. He had been in hell before then; a hell of pain and fear. But when he had seen her looking at him like that, it had felt like salvation.

"All I want is to see her again," he found himself whispering. "I used to have dreams before. Dreams of finding a cure for her and returning to the Shire together. But now, all I have left are fears. I fear they might use her in the war against us. Is that not why they are keeping her?" It was his first time stating this fear out loud, but after seeing what the Blood Ring could do to her, it was a legitimate fear.

Sam had no good answer for that and Hunter was just a silent shape looming over them.

"I also fear she might lose her hobbit body while she is away from me. That would be… I was not even able to say any last words to her back then. One second we were fighting on the plains and the next she was gone. It is because I chose to put the Ring on, isn't it? I should not have done that."

Sam gripped his arm hard, making him look up. "Don't go there again, Mr. Frodo. Don't blame yourself anymore."

Frodo sighed. "Sam, you don't understand. Sometimes, in spite of all the terrible things that the Ring has done to me and to Allie, I still long for it. I can feel it still. The connection is right there, at the corner of my mind. If I purposely think about it, I can still hear its dark whispers. They are becoming stronger and closer every day."

He rubbed his head tiredly.

"Then you will have to fight it, Mr. Frodo," Sam said earnestly. "For your sake and for Allie's sake too. We both know she will try her hardest not to lose her hobbit self before she can see you again."

Suddenly, Hunter sprang up on his legs and raised his muzzle in the air. His blue eye was gleaming as bright as ice under the sun. Frodo sensed the waves of his urgency, and fear and excitement lurched in his heart. He sprang up to his feet and placed a hand on Hunter's flank. "Is it Allie? Is she talking with you?"

Hunter remained immobile for another eternity, before his unique eye slowly rolled towards Frodo. The hobbit stared into that eye with anguish, wishing with all his heart he could speak to the wolf. But then, he saw something akin to happiness in that expressive eye.

"She's alive, isn't she?" he exclaimed, barely able to contain his relief. "Is she safe? Is she free?"

Slowly, the wolf shook his head and seemed lost within himself once more. Frodo understood that Hunter did not know yet. He waited with barely suppressed trepidation as Hunter conferred with his pack. Finally, he looked back at Frodo again, but this time his eye was troubled. Indecisive.

"What is it, Hunter? What is it?"

Hunter's eye suddenly narrowed and the fur on his back stood up, making him seem twice as large. Frodo backed away at the feeling of mortal danger that now emanated from the wolf. As for Hunter, he was twirling around in the darkness, looking at his surroundings in brusque and uneven movements. The air around him seemed to ripple with his anger.

Frodo thrust his waterskin towards Hunter without thinking. "Drink this and tell me what is going on!"

Hunter's eye fixed onto him and Frodo felt himself being scanned. For a terrible second, he thought Hunter was going to attack him, but then, by an incredible effort or power of will, Hunter forced the violence away from his eye. Slowly, he pushed the waterskin away with his head.

Sam advanced and hesitantly lowered Frodo's arm. "Hunter needs to be in his wolf form right now, Mr. Frodo," he whispered with his eyes carefully set on the wolf.

Frodo did not understand. Allie seemed to be alive, but then something had happened. Had she given an order to Hunter? Why had the grey wolf seemed on the verge of going berserk?

Frodo balled up his hands into fists and repressed the scream of frustration that threatened to erupt out of his throat. "Let us get going," he managed to say in a barely controlled voice. "Let us finish this search and go back quickly to the citadel."

The fur on Hunter's back was still not completely smooth, but the grey wolf quickly marched into a trail that left the cave and bifurcated left. He seemed to be as anxious as Frodo to be done with the search.

"What just happened?" Sam asked anxiously.

"I don't know," Frodo admitted with worry gnawing at his guts.

* * *

Allie found herself in a place where the darkness was so heavy that it felt like a mantle. From that darkness, things that felt like tentacles, or perhaps hands with long fingers, were brushing every inch of her skin. Their touch was so unbearably disgusting that she screamed and squirmed.

And yet, she could not escape the hands.

Someone was in there with her.

Hatred.

_Let me out._

Who was speaking?

She was back in her father's closet. She couldn't breathe as the wooden walls pressed against her on all sides.

"Let me out!" she heard herself scream out.

Suddenly, the dark thoughts that had overwhelmed her at that moment resurfaced in her memory as clearly as though she were conjuring them all over again right now.

She wanted her father dead, with his eyes poked out with a knife. She wanted Saradoc trampled dead by a horse and Merry to witness it. She wanted Frodo to suffer what she had suffered.

_No!_

Yes, deep down, her hatred swirled, stronger than any love, than any bond.

She saw herself from the outside as a little hobbit lass with an evil grin on her lips as the burning flames of the barn danced in her eyes.

_"Burn, burn, burn. Everything should burn to ashes_," a little girl sang.

She cried out and tried to get away from this darkness and those tiny black hands caressing her.

"You are monster," her father's mouth appeared in front of her in the darkness and spoke. "You killed my wife. And now you have ruined my life! If you don't receive punishment now, one day you will! Mark my words!"

"Shut up, father. Shut up! Why are you still haunting me?"

"You hate him."

"Yes, I hate him!"

"That is good. Hate is good. Let me out."

"No!"

"Everyone hates you deep down. Let it go. Hate them back. It will make it easier."

"She will not understand," Informant said mockingly. "She is a puny little nobody playing at being Queen."

"You made me a wolf," Pippin declared sadly. "I had a life before. I was supposed to be Thain. My parents, my sisters, they are still mourning me. Why, Allie? I wanted to be your friend. Why did you make me into a monster like you? Do you know how many people I have killed?"

"Pippin, I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to," she sobbed.

She wanted to run away from them all, but the little hands held her back and kept her in their prison of caresses. This had to be a nightmare. When would she wake up?

"You like to kill," Hunter said. "The thrill, the rush, the taste of blood."

"Hunter?" she asked tentatively.

"You were the perfect candidate for a wolf Queen destined to piece back together the conscience of Sauron. Your first act upon coming into this world was to kill. It is your nature. It is a good nature," Hunter said approvingly.

"That's not how you really think!"

"Someday you might even surpass me," Informant smiled. "You might already have."

Why were her wolves saying this to her?

"Destroy?" the Warg asked. "Kill?"

His question was echoed by a million other squealing voices. "Destroy? Kill? Destroy? Kill? Destroy? Kill?"

"You are incapable of love," Councillor stated sadly, with a shake of his brown head.

"No!" Allie protested wildly. "I love all of you! You are my family!"

"What family?" Pippin sniggered. "We are your servants, bound to you by the Blood."

"No…" Allie cried out. "How can you say this, Pippin? I do love you, and you know it! We share the Blood link! You know how I feel!"

She tried looking for them in the darkness, but she could not see them. Only their voices she could hear, accusing and angry and sarcastic, driving her mad. She was scared now. Were the wolves turning their backs on her?

"Hunter!" she called out desperately. "Is Frodo with you still? Is he all right?"

"Do you love him?" Arwen asked.

"I do! He is everything to me! Please!"

"Be careful of love, my dear," her father sneered.

"You and Mr. Frodo, it's not natural," Sam said. "There is no future there, only pain."

"I am not a wolf, and you are not my Queen," Frodo's cold voice echoed to her from the darkness. "I suggest you remember this."

She was truly frightened now. "Frodo?"

"You have become too accustomed to the act as killing as a solution to all your problems," Frodo continued with hurt and disappointment in his voice.

She shook her head violently. She knew it was the Ring talking.

_But it contained a grain of what he truly thinks of you._

"Forgive me Frodo!" she begged. "I promise that I will never kill anyone again! I would do it for you!"

"You can't," he replied sadly. "It is in your nature."

"I can change!" She reached out for him and seemed to catch a pan of his sleeve. She held on for dear life. "Please, Frodo. Don't. Don't walk away from me!"

His sleeve was pulled out from between her desperate fingers. She let out a sound that was half a whine and half a sob. Despair and heart break overwhelmed her until she couldn't breathe. Tears streamed down her cheeks, burning her skin.

"Frodo, you said you could accept me, all of me. Where are you? I miss you. I need to see you!"

"I'm sorry, Allie. I thought I could accept it, but never did I imagine what it would entail for me. I can no longer do this."

"Are you going to leave me?" she asked, lost and scared.

"I'm sorry, Allie," Frodo repeated, his voice loud and all encompassing, and infinitesimally sad. "I think I owe you the truth. You were alone and an outcast when we were young. You were a sad and broken thing that I could not ignore because we lived under the same roof. I just wanted to fix you. Just like with Gollum."

"No... it cannot be! All those times... when you went out of your way..."

Aghast, she did not know how to continue. Stupidly, she tried to grope for her half-moon necklace but it was no longer there. Had it ever been there in the first place?

"Goodbye, Allie," Frodo said.

She lay there for a long time after that among the caressing hands, staring up unblinkingly at the ceiling of darkness. "Goodbye?" she murmured to herself dazedly. The word kept echoing in her mind, all around her. The little hands caressing her were all whispering it in their tiny voices. "Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye."

As a last mechanism to preserve her sanity, she tried to get rid of her own love for him, to forget it had ever happened. She struggled for a bit but soon realized there was no hope of that. Her feelings for him had been too large a part of her. If she discarded them, she would have nothing left, be no one.

_"You don't need to bear this anymore. Let me take over for you_."

"You? Who are you?" she asked flatly, without interest.

_"Me? I am you. Or rather, your hatred."_

She felt a flicker of anguish. "No, I can't let you out."

"You know how it is to be locked in. Let me out now. I need to breathe."

_Oh Gods, I am losing it. Please, Frodo, please save me. A bit of kindness, that is all I need. Just smile at me and hold my hand and tell me it will be all right. It will be enough, even if it's just a lie._

Frodo?

Frodo.

Frodo! Frodo!

FRODO!

She waited. She waited. She waited.

Nothing.

He had left her. Everyone had left her. She was all alone now. Was she ever truly loved by anyone?

The little hands were still caressing her, but now it also felt like they were inside of her. She could feel them stroking at her heart and mind.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" she screamed in a last effort to fight them off.

But they dug their tentacles inside her mind, and one by one started erasing all the happy memories she possessed. The memories of warmth, and love, and friendship... their eager little hands took them and turned them off.

"_Let me out,_" the voice was loud now in her ears, authoritative.

Allie was tired now, so very tired.

"Let me out," her hatred insisted. "And rest."

"What are you going to do?" she asked in a small voice.

"I will make things right again, my dear. Leave it to me."

Allie wept silently and suddenly felt herself give up the fight.

A blanket of darkness blacker than the darkness already surrounding her started to unfold. All the instances where she felt hatred, or anger, or hurt rose to the surface of her mind. There were too many to count.

"What a miserable life I've had," she let out faintly.

A glint of red was now slowly illuminating the gloom. The Blood was coming. Outside, as though from far away, she felt her physical body transform into that of a wolf for the last time.

All her hopes and dreams died with that sensation.

_"That's it, dear, that's it. Go to sleep."_

Allie went to sleep.

* * *

"M-my Lord?" Grima babbled.

"You incompetent fool!" Saruman shouted and then gave him a backhand that sent him flying.

Grima clasped his burning cheek and a flash of cold anger flashed through his green eyes.

At that moment, Baadash trod into the room, groaning as he saw Serecor on the ground. He went and picked it up.

"You!" Saruman hollered. "I sent you out with the rest of the Warg-riders!"

Baadash eyed Allie sprawled on the ground. "Yes, my Lord, but my ride is still here."

Saruman sneered. "Incompetent fools, every single one of you." He cringed at the injury on his arm. "You can have her if you wish. She is but a broken toy now."

Baadash bared his teeth in displeasure. He brought Serecor at eye level and his eyes narrowed at the cracks on it. The red liquid inside seemed to be swirling faster than before.

"What is this?" he spat. "It is broken!"

"Yes!" Saruman rumbled. "And so will you be lest you leave this chamber at once. Get out, the both of you!"

Baadash did not seem to hear him. "It is burning hot!"

Grima, in spite of himself, approached to have a better look. The red liquid was swirling, and some of it was leaking out from the cracks on the Ring's surface. As they touched Baadash's gloved hand, smoke started to rise.

Saruman pushed Grima aside brusquely to take a better look himself. "Give me the Blood Ring!"

The Uruk-hai's blood-shot eyes shone dangerously. "No!"

"Are you defying me?"

Baadash' other hand flew to his sword, but before he could brandish it, the red liquid ate through his glove and touched his coarse skin. Letting out a yelp of pain, he dropped the Ring.

Serecor fell to the ground and shattered in a million tiny pieces. The red liquid poured out into a pond around the shattered pieces of its container.

"Look at what you have done!" Saruman stated in alarm.

"My Lord, the girl…" Grima whispered from behind.

Wizard and Uruk whipped their heads.

Allie was now sitting up straight as an arrow. Her eyes were still closed and she did not seem to be conscious. But there was no doubt that she had sat up on her own. Suddenly, she opened up her mouth wide, a dark hole in a pale face. At their feet, the red pond of Blood shook, and then it condensed together. Standing up like a snake, it suddenly leapt into Allie's mouth in one shot.

Allie swallowed audibly.

For a second, nothing happened.

But then, she started to transform. Her blonde hair enveloped her, becoming fur. Her limbs grew longer and bigger, her skull caved in in places and protruded in others as her muzzle grew out and fangs elongated out of the red gums inside her mouth.

When her final transformation was completed, her eyelids glided open, revealing two pools of red in place of the usual silver. She appraised the three people in front of her, and the three people stared back as an indecipherable fear suddenly overwhelmed them.

Grima felt goosebumps on his skin; he felt as if he were not looking at a wolf, but at death itself. He blinked when the wolf finally attacked. She moved so fast that she seemed to disappear and then reappear right in front of them. Before he could turn his head, he felt Baadash' blood splashing all over the left side of his body. A piece of stomach flew and landed on his hand. He shook it off with a wild scream.

Beside him, the Uruk lay lacerated in pieces. A bit of his jaw still hung from his baffled face.

Grima started running for the exit with all his might.

Behind him, Saruman muttered a curse and his staff blasted magic. The wolf received the blast head-on, but maintained her ground. Slowly, her wolf mouth pulled backwards towards her ears in a terrible, bloody smile.

Saruman's eyes widened in terror.

A deep rumbling shook the walls of Orthanc. He almost lost his balance, but then caught himself and ran out from the chamber and into the balcony.

He could not believe what he saw then. Dozens of Ents were swarming the courtyard, destroying the catapults and the forges, crushing his remaining Uruk-hai under their rooted feet. Many of them were picking up huge boulders and throwing them against the walls of Orthanc, which had produced the deep rumbling he had felt.

"No!" he yelled.

A deep trembling in the earth preceded the huge wave of water that suddenly flowed down from the broken dam. The Ents braced against it and stood their ground, but the water washed away everything he had worked for. It poured into an angry waterfall down the opening in the center, inundating his factories and forges, putting down the fires he had lit in the belly of the earth.

"No!" he screamed again with the force of desperation.

Then, he suddenly remembered the threat behind him. Gasping, he turned around and saw the smiling golden wolf with her bloody eyes advancing towards him ever so slowly, knowing she had her prey cornered.

"Stay away!" he warned the beast.

The wolf charged. Saruman dropped his staff and crossed his arms in front of his face to protect it. The wolf scratched at them violently, ripping his white sleeves to shreds. Saruman shrieked as he felt himself being pushed backwards. The railing of the balcony dug painfully into his back. The wolf was cold and relentless in her attack. She pawed Saruman in the head, half stunning him. He collapsed against the balcony with his arms in the void. The wolf smiled a bit wider and shoved him with her head. Saruman cried out and tumbled down in a flurry of white robes.

The wolf bounced after him without hesitation. She caught up with Saruman in mid-air and bit into the side of his neck. Blood spurted out in a vivid jet. Another bite, and Saruman's head came off. His body hit the water first, and the wolf followed shortly after with Saruman's head in her jaw.

On the steps down the main entrance of Orthanc, Grima paused from his wild dash and eyed the rapid currents of water rushing past. He looked back fearfully, dreading to see the golden beast chasing after him, but the main Hall of Orthanc was deserted. Grima eyed the water that cut off his escape and cursed violently. Trailing his wet black coat behind him, he climbed back up the stairs, intending to go look for something that would allow him to float away.

A lapping sound in the water behind him made him freeze. Slowly, he turned around to face the source of the sound. He shrieked in horror and disgust when he saw Saruman's severed head floating past. The Wizard's eyes were still open, watching him from underneath the surface of the water with a light of accusation still etched in their depths.

Then, the current led it away and it disappeared.

Something bright stirred on its wake and then the giant golden wolf emerged like a beast of vengeance with her fur dripping blood and water. Grima sat there, frozen. "It is me!" he screamed. "I helped you escape! I tried to warn you that I was holding the fake Ring!"

The red pools swirled in the wolf's eyes and Grima did not recognize the hobbit girl who had spoken to him from behind the bars of her cage. No light of recognition lit up in her eyes as she crawled up the stairs after him.

He tried to flee, but the wolf caught onto his leg and made him fall on his belly on the stairs with his legs in the water. Grima tried to hold on to the stone steps with his nails, kicking and screaming, but the golden beast inexorably drew him under.

* * *

Frodo and Sam trailed on for hours after Hunter in silence, only stopping when they reached one of the many intersections underneath the mountain for the wolf to decide their route. All paths looked the same to the hobbits and it would have been an impossible task for them alone, if not for the wolf's senses guiding the way.

They had not been speaking ever since the episode with Hunter in the cave. Frodo forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. His torch illuminated the mountain ground ahead and the walls surrounding them. From time to time, little insects scurried over their feet to disappear in holes in the ground.

Arrived at another intersection, Frodo suddenly frowned as he looked at the long tracks under his feet. Crouching down, he approached the torch to the ground and steadily studied them. Sam crouched down beneath him. "What is it, Mr. Frodo?"

"Sam, tell me what these tracks look like to you."

Sam frowned as he studied them as well. Then, he followed them with a steady gaze as they disappeared straight into the gloom along one of the passageways. The tracks looked like a long trail that was slightly deeper than the ground on either side of it. Small rocks were scattered along the length of it. Sam touched it with one finger, and then brought it to his nose. Hunter sniffed at the tracks as well.

"By the old Gaffer," Sam suddenly whispered. "I think it might be a dried up stream."

The hobbits exchanged a glance, and Hunter suddenly let out a deep rumble of excitement.

"If we follow it," Frodo picked up the thought, "it will lead outside the mountain."

"Yes!" Sam exclaimed enthusiastically. "It might not be the exit at the boundary of Rohan and Gondor, but it will be an exit nonetheless! Let us follow it!"

Frodo nodded, feeling cheered up. Also, Hunter had not smelled any Goblins so far, so the path was safe.

Hunter trod down in this new direction, following the tracks of the stream, and the hobbits followed behind more eagerly. Frodo shifted the torch from his right hand to his left. It was becoming heavy.

"Do you want me to hold it for a time?" Sam proposed helpfully from behind.

Frodo turned towards him and handed him the torch with a smile of gratitude. Sam took it and marched ahead.

"How much time do you think has passed?"

"A day and a half at the most," Frodo mused.

"Faramir has given us a maximum of three days. If this trail continues on, do we follow it until the end or do we go back?"

A legit question.

"Let us give ourselves another half a day. We will make as much progress as we can and decide by then."

As soon as Frodo's voice died down, a shock rattled through him, cutting off his breath and his legs. He fell on his knees with a silent thump as he clutched at his chest. Sam was saying a reply from ahead of him, not having noticed anything. His words were hazy in Frodo's thumping ears.

Sweat broke down on his brow so fast that soon they became little rivulets running down his temple and dripping to the floor from his chin. A terrible foreboding was blooming inside his chest, giving birth to a burst of panic that made his heart lift up to his throat.

"Allie," he whispered in the dark, and clutched at his chest harder.

What was happening to him? Why did he have this terrible and absurd feeling that Allie was calling out to him?

Sam and Hunter paused ahead of him and turned back.

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried out as he ran back to his master.

Before Sam could reach him, Frodo stood up and sprang to the grey wolf.

"Where is Allie? She needs me! I need to go to her _now_." He flung the words in a voice that rang deep with his panic.

Hunter's blue eye was worried and confused.

Frodo cried out in frustration as the sense of urgency within him grew and grew. He took tufts of grey fur with both hands and shook the wolf uselessly. Sam tried to appease him, but he remained dead to his gardener's efforts. All his focus was on Hunter, but Hunter just looked back at him like an unresponsive wall.

The grey wolf tried connecting himself to Allie, and he sensed her, still in Orthanc. Earlier that day, her command had come to kill and destroy Saruman, Sauron and all Orcs, Goblins and Uruk-hai. That order had sent him into a frenzy. He had sensed her rage then, but there were no Orcs and Goblins around him, so he could not comply. However, ever since then, she had remained silent no matter how pressingly he had tried talking to her.

_"Allie? Queen? Can you hear me?_" Hunter asked again.

Hunter did not know what had brought on the hobbit's sense of urgency, but Frodo's panic was contagious and he was feeling himself become restless as well.

As before, there was no answer from his Queen. However, he could sense her at the end of the Blood thread. Perhaps she was simply in no position of answering right now. No need in driving himself into another frenzy.

He reported his attention back to Frodo, who was struggling to keep it together. He strongly wished he could offer the hobbit reassurance in the form of words, but he could not afford to drink the Ent water while on this mission.

Very slowly, almost gently, he nodded his head as he bumped his huge forepaw against Frodo's chest. Frodo shook his head a little without understanding. Hunter bumped his chest again, right over his thumping heart.

This time, the hobbit seemed to understand. He placed his own hand on top of Hunter's paw.

"She is alive?" he asked faintly.

Hunter gave a nod.

"Are you sure?"

Another nod.

Frodo let out a long and shaky sigh as he leaned against the wall of the passageway. He just stayed there, trying to get his breathing back to normal. The sense of dread hadn't completely left him, but Hunter's answer had chased away most of his panic. He fished out his handkerchief and slowly dabbed at his face.

Sam noticed the small tremor in Frodo's hand with worry. "Do you want to rest for a bit, Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo stepped away from the wall with an almost stubborn look in his blue eyes.

"No. We keep going now."

Sam hesitated for a second, and then followed after Hunter with the torch.

Frodo closed the company with a set jaw, praying to the Valars, to whoever was listening, to please keep Allie safe.

* * *

As usual, I replied to you via PMs if you were kind enough to leave me some comments ^_^


	48. The Entrails of the Earth

**The Entrails of the Earth**

Aragorn knew the war of Helm's Deep was lost when the Uruk-hai finally forced them to retreat to their last stronghold. The death of Haldir still weighed heavily upon his mind, but more so than his death, his last words would not quit resonating at his ears like a broken record. The Dark Lord Sauron was back. The hobbits needed help. Minas Tirith was going to fall.

Was mankind destined to perish and disappear from the books of history starting from this dark night? Before the heavy gates of the stronghold could fall shut against the onslaught of Uruk-hai outside, Aragorn got a glimpse of Warg-riders ransacking the fallen Keep. King Theoden's voice boomed nearby, ordering his men to position themselves behind the door for one last desperate resistance. At the haggard look on the soldiers' faces all around him, all words of hope eluded the Dunedain. All his life, he had been able to give comfort and courage to his men, but in these last desperate hours before dawn, all he felt was bone-deep weariness.

The thought of Arwen waiting for him forced him to snap out of this dangerous state of mind. He saw her lying down on her bed, her jet-black hair rippling underneath her, the silk of her red dress tangled with the soft velvet of the sheets that lay in an intertwined mass around her legs. Arwen's face was pale, but her eyes were still full of that exquisite life and undying hope that he had come to love. As she turned her head on her pillow and looked up at him through the early rays of sunlight shining through the large windows of Rivendell, she smiled and formed his name with her lips.

He had told her to go to the Undying Lands, but he knew her well enough to suspect that she might have stayed behind against her better judgment. Stayed behind for him. Because she still had hope left.

The first bang of hammer against the sturdy gates claimed his attention back to his ugly present. Aragorn found the King and urgently led him further away from prying ears to enquire about a potential escape route for the women and children in the caves.

Before the King could give him an answer, gurgling screams from outside suddenly interrupted them. The harsh knocking on the gates ceased as the Uruks on the other side barked orders in their language. Sounds of battle broke out.

All the men inside exchanged stunned looks. Legolas and Gimli took advantage of this respite to reconsolidate the doors. Theoden rushed to the doors as well, lifted a small plank and peered outside.

"What is it?" Aragorn asked.

The Uruk-hai were known to have regular internal quarrels amongst themselves. However, he could not fathom them having such a quarrel right in the middle of war.

"It's the Wargs," Theoden exclaimed and then turned to look at Aragorn with incomprehension mingled with sudden hope. "They have overthrown their riders and now attacking the Uruk-hai!"

Aragorn's brow furrowed deep and then his gaze filled with such determination that Theoden felt pierced by it from front to back.

Aragorn clasped his shoulder. "Ride out with me," he requested quietly.

Theoden considered him for a long second. "For death and glory."

"For Rohan," Aragorn proclaimed. "For your people. For all of mankind!"

Gimli looked up at the window to the hall that faced eastward; the sky was getting pale.

"The sun is rising," he declared.

Aragorn turned towards it as well as the first light of dawn streamed through it like a warm caress with promises of unwavering will and renewed hope.

"_Look for my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east."_

Aragorn had almost forgotten those words by Gandalf the White. He turned towards Theoden and saw boldness and purposefulness etched on every line of his face.

"Yes," Theoden thundered. "The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the Deep one last time! Fell deeds awake. Now for wrath, now for ruin and a red dawn!"

And thus they rode forth from the Hall: four horses against the sea of battling Uruk-hai encircling them. The deep blast of the horn rose up and swelled in the predawn, and the whole Keep seemed to echo its call like a beast coming awake.

The Uruks looked up at them with their shiny blood-shot eyes, but the horses charged through their ranks as though they were made of paper. An invisible force seemed to be guiding them and protecting them from their enemies' ill-aimed swords.

"Leave the Wargs!" Aragorn called out. "Aim for the Uruk-hai!"

The sun peaked up from the eastern mountains. As its rays started shining down the slope towards them, a lone white horse appeared over the ridge. The horse was truly a stunning sight; it was a large beast with strong legs and a gracious neck. It was entirely white, his coat like unspoiled snow on a cold winter's day, and his mane seemed to be made of white silk. Gandalf was seated on top of it with his white robes flowing down to his feet, making him and the horse look like one grand entity. His silvery hair and beard were stirring gently in the morning breeze, and his white staff seemed made of light as it rested in his hand. Theoden looked up and let out a raw scream of joy at the sight of them.

There was a glint of golden armor behind Gandalf, and then Eomer rode out beside Wizard, his tall helmet easily recognizable even from a distance. "Rohirrim!" he clamored.

And his horse army answered from behind them.

Like a wave of fury unfurling under the guidance of the sun itself, the horses galloped down the slope to Helm's Deep, their hooves thundering against the pebbles. Gandalf raised his staff as he charged and the light of dawn seemed captured in it and then reflected down to the massive army of Uruk-hai awaiting below.

The sheer brilliance of it made them cover their eyes and cower.

From the direction in which lay Fangorn, trees suddenly starting moving in a single mass to settle at the border of the plains extending in front of Helm's Deep.

The arrival of the Rohirrim and the rebellion of the Wargs changed the tides of the battle completely. The Uruk-hai, now disoriented and half-blinded by the glare of the sun, squealed and fell to the swords, axes, lances and arrows that befell them from all sides. Letting go of their weapons, they started to run away. The Rohirrim chased after them, forcing them to flee into the awaiting trees. When every single one of them had penetrated into their green domains, the trees shivered. Creaking and cracking sounds suddenly resonated from within, mingled with the shrieks of the trapped Uruk-hai. It lasted quite a while, but then the forest fell silent once more.

And now, Aragorn, Theoden, Legolas, Gimli, Eomer and Gandalf were traveling across these very woods. The hooves of their horses resonated ominously against the damp earth. Aragorn looked around carefully, but not even a dented armor remained of the Uruk-hai who had entered previously.

The Wargs had wanted to follow them, but they had not dared enter the woods.

It was wise, Aragorn thought. It was too soon for the trees to forget.

Finally, the ruins of Isengard appeared in front of their company. The water had flooded everything, except Orthanc itself. The dark tower stood amidst the floating planks and other debris, looking forlorn under the bleak daylight.

The five horses marched carefully towards the entrance to Orthanc, but there was no movement in Saruman's stronghold except for Treebeard now rounding the tower and marching towards them with Merry on his shoulder.

"Gandalf! Strider! Legolas! Gimli!" the hobbit called out joyously, waving at them frantically as he hung precariously from Treebeard's face.

"There you are, young hobbit!" Gimli groaned. "A wild chase you've sent us on! Where is the other one?"

Merry blanked for a second, before realizing the Dwarf was alluding to Sam. "Oh, we have parted ways long ago. I do hope he has managed to reunite with Frodo and Allie!"

Gandalf spurred Shadowfax forward. "Where is Saruman? Is he still in his tower?"

"Perhaps," Treebeard responded in that rumbling voice of his. "I am glad you've come… young master Gandalf."

Merry gaped visibly at this, for he would call the Wizard many things, but young wasn't one of them.

Gandalf simply answered: "Let us be careful. Even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous."

Eomer and Theoden looked up at the Ent, aghast, never having set eyes on a moving and speaking tree before.

Legolas spurred his horse next to Aragorn's and whispered in a troubled voice: "There is a presence here."

Aragorn discreetly signalled to the border of the forest, where a pack of wolves hid amidst the trees, their bright eyes watching them. Out in the open, a wolf with incredible brown fur sat on his hindquarters with his pointy ears directed towards them.

"It is just the wolves from Allie's pack. The brown one seems to be their leader."

Legolas gave them a cursory look. "I have seen them too, but the presence that I feel does not belong to them. It is coming from the ruins. Look, the wolves must have noticed as well."

The brown wolf was now also looking at the ruins with a slow swing of his tail.

Quick as a snake, Legolas raised his bow and pulled an arrow back on the bowstring until it touched his cheek. His piercing blue eyes scanned the stairs leading into Orthanc. "It is drawing nearer."

Gandalf quit talking with Treebeard and the whole company turned towards the Elf.

"Is it Saruman?" Eomer asked worriedly.

Shadowfax trotted in the water until Gandalf stood in front of the others, directly facing the entrance to Orthanc. However, even to his piercing eyes, the hall seemed dark and empty.

"Show yourself, Saruman!" Gandalf clamored loudly and impetuously. His voice echoed into the tower itself, filling the unseen spaces of its depths.

Legolas' fingers tightened on the bowstring. Aragorn could feel it now; like a malevolent energy surveying them from the shadows.

Gimli leaned sideways from behind Legolas and glanced down into the waters. "There is something here," he grumbled. He reached down with his axe and poked at it.

A corpse floated up to the surface, dressed in a shredded black coat. He was face down in the water, and flocks of black hair flowed around his head. One of his feet was clad in a black boot, but the other one was bare. Part of his calf had been torn off, revealing black flesh swollen with water.

Gimli turned the corpse over with his axe, and he heard Eomer gasp and Theoden mutter low under his breath.

"That was Grima Wormtongue," Theoden said with a pained face. "May he rest in peace."

"It seems like Saruman has finally tired of him," Eomer stated with a forearm held in front of his mouth, for Grima's face was distorted by utmost terror. His mouth was wide open and his eyes had rolled back into their orbits.

"It seems that he's drowned," Gimli grumbled hoarsely.

"But that wound," Gandalf mused. "Are those not bite marks on his leg?"

As soon as those words crossed his lips, Merry suddenly stood up on Treebeard's shoulder excitedly. "Allie! Look, it is Allie!"

The rest of the company stared into the main Hall of Orthanc once more, for it was no longer empty.

A wolf was silently walking towards them. When the light from the outside slowly bathed her frame, the smile on Merry's face became an uneasy frown. What he once remembered as a shiny and glorious coat that rivalled the sunlight itself was now all ragged and dirty and covered with dried blood. But the most striking difference was her eyes. Why were they red as though made of blood?

Legolas' blue eyes hardened and he aimed his bow straight at her. "That is not Allie. Stand back."

Aragorn clasped his arm, extremely troubled. "Wait!"

"Allie?" Merry called out. "It is me, Merry! Strider is also here, and Legolas and Gimli, and even Gandalf! Gandalf is still alive! What are you doing here, Allie? I thought you would be with Frodo!"

Aragorn felt as if a boulder was settling into his stomach when he realized Merry did not yet know the Quest had failed.

The wolf considered them, all of them, but Aragorn did not read recognition in those abnormal eyes of hers. The creature in front of them was not the friend he had once journeyed with.

When the wolf moved, she moved so fast that no one had time to react properly. Eomer let out a cry of dismay as he unsheathed his sword. Even that movement was too slow. He had been closest to the wolf, and the wolf charged at him silently, with a brutality and cold-blood that Aragorn could not associate with the Allie he knew.

"Allie! No!" Merry screamed.

At the same time, the arrow left Legolas' bow and grazed the wolf's stomach. Eomer's horse whinnied in terror and stood up on its hind legs. Due to the Elf's arrow, the wolf crashed into Eomer sideways instead of up-front but the collision still sent them both into the water.

Treebeard rumbled in dismay as Legolas quickly put another arrow to his bow.

"Eomer!" Theoden screamed and then jumped off his horse to land in the knee-deep water with a splash.

Eomer and Allie were now battling it out under water, looking like a vortex of colors entangled under the muddy surface.

"What is going on?" Merry cried out. "Why is Allie attacking us?" He started to climb down Treebeard, but the Ent's golden eye settled on him brusquely. "Stay!" he roared with an urgency that froze Merry in his tracks.

Eomer's head finally emerged as he gasped for breath. His sword was in his hand and it was tainted red with the wolf's blood. One second later, Allie emerged as well and lurched at him again, but she did not have the leverage she had when she was on dry ground. Eomer drove her back with his sword, but she attacked again and again. She was relentless, incapable of judging that the situation was unfavorable to her.

Theoden slashed at her from behind but she saw him coming and evaded his sword. Eomer found his footing and charged at her with a cry. Before his stroke fell, the brown wolf collided against him and sent him splashing in the water once more.

Then, the brown wolf interposed itself between Allie and Theoden, growling protectively.

"Councillor!" Merry called out. His relief soon morphed into terror. "Councillor! Watch out!"

Councillor turned around and his deep brown eyes widened as his Queen bore down on him with open fangs and bit into his shoulder.

"_Allie!"_ Councillor snapped at her. "_What is wrong? Snap out of it!"_

But it was like talking to a wall. She looked at him with her eerie red eyes and sank her teeth deeper. Councillor snarled in pain as blood soaked his fur. He tried to shake her off, but failed.

White light suddenly filled the air around them in a flash and then Allie was thrown off Councillor to land in the water a few meters away.

Gandalf spurred Shadowfax forward, still brandishing his staff.

The wolf stood with water to her chest and fixed the Wizard with saliva running down her jaw.

"Stay back!" Gandalf ordered the others, his eyes not losing sight of the wolf for a second. "She is under the spell of Despair. I can see it at work! It swirls around her like a black cloud of flies, darkening her dreams and coating her mind. Trying to reason with her right now is useless."

"Can you help her?" Aragorn enquired urgently.

For all answer, the Wizard brandished his staff again. A ripple traveled on the water in direction of Allie and the wolf suddenly squirmed and howled in pain.

"What are you doing?" Merry screamed from atop Treebeard.

"Begone!" Gandalf hollered and seemed to increase in size as a white glow enveloped him.

The wolf thrashed again violently. Her red eyes full of hatred fixed on him and she charged towards him madly with a violent series of growls.

"Let there be light!" Gandalf clamored, his white robes floating around him as though emanating a light of their own. "Let there be courage! Let there be hope! Begone must be the darkness! Begone must be the despair!"

The wolf seemed to be suddenly thrown back by an invisible guff of wind. She landed in the water and thrashed the air with all four legs.

Gandalf advanced, keeping his staff directed towards her as his hands shook with the effort of his magic.

Shadowfax trotted forward and Allie's cries of agony seemed almost human as she thrashed more and more violently.

Merry scrambled down Treebeard and started splattering forward in the water. "Stop! You will kill her!"

Theoden stopped him with one arm. His eyes were harsh and full of dark sympathy. He had been through the same ordeal, once.

The wolf managed to scramble up on her legs. Her red eyes were wide and full of madness as she sprang forward in one last desperate attempt.

"The chains of darkness shall break. The chains of despair shall shatter. I release you from the Spell!" the Wizard thundered.

The wolf stopped in her tracks and arched her back to an unnatural angle. An invisible wind seemed to ruffle her fur and then a cloud of fine black dust seemed to peel off her and lift up into the air. For a second, the cloud took the shape of a screaming face with mouth wide open and eyes as deep as the pits of hell themselves, before a gust of wind dispersed it and made it disappear.

Allie dropped sideways on her flank and moved no more.

The light around Gandalf slowly dimmed until he once again looked like a simple old man clad in white. He sighed tiredly.

Aragorn dismounted his horse and ran towards Allie in the water. He crouched down by her head and carefully pulled one of her eyelids open. The eye inside was still red. The sigh of relief he was about to exhale got stuck in his throat. He felt Legolas leaning over him to peer at the wolf.

"There is still something at work within her," the Dunedain announced somberly.

The Elf nodded. "But the malevolence is gone."

"Allie!" Merry crouched down beside Aragorn and gently touched her fur. Councillor also licked at her neck, but she remained unconscious.

Gandalf peered down at her from atop his horse. He did not say anything, but his face was grave.

"What is it?" Theoden enquired from a distance. "Did it not work?"

Gandalf turned Shadowfax around. "Saruman used a forbidden spell on her. It is the spell of Despair; one that infects the mind with poisonous memories and turns a person mad. Luckily, she has not been under the spell for long. Some damage has been done, but I trust her spirit shall come back to us under normal circumstances." His wrinkled eyes narrowed. "Which these are not."

"What do you mean?" Merry asked, appalled.

Gandalf turned to face him. "It seems something, or someone, still possesses her."

The hobbit frowned. "Are you saying that when she wakes up, she might still not be Allie?"

Councillor felt fear overwhelm him. So that was what he had felt to be wrong all along. After Allie had issued her last order to the wolves to destroy their enemies, he had managed to sense her at the end of the Blood thread, but her consciousness had seemed different, as though it belonged to someone else.

Councillor studied the golden wolf's unconscious body. He was aware that the Blood had a conscience of its own, although he did not know its real identity. He suddenly feared what the wolves of the pack would have to face if their Queen opened her eyes as someone else. The painful throb on his shoulder was suddenly like a warning.

"What about Saruman?" Legolas asked.

"He's dead," Theoden answered from a few feet away as he kicked at the decapitated body clad in shredded white robes that he had found floating in the water near Orthanc.

The company was silent for a while. Then Merry knelt down in the water beside the golden wolf and began to cry silently.

Councillor snatched his eyes away from the scene with a jerk. "_Wolves,"_ he ordered. "_Go into the Wizard's tower and search for anything that you deem useful or important. I want to know what happened to our Queen."_

The wolves from his unit obeyed silently. Their legs splashed the water, and when it became too deep, they started swimming until they reached the stairs of Orthanc. From there, they scampered into the hall.

"It looks like our business is over with Isengard," Gandalf announced darkly.

Theoden climbed back onto his horse. "We are returning to Edoras," he announced. And then, as he set eyes on the wolf in the water, he added: "Leave the wolf."

Merry jumped up on his feet, a defiant look coming into his brown eyes. "No! I am not leaving Allie here."

"I cannot burden myself with a beast that might attack us the moment it opens its eyes."

"She won't!" the hobbit insisted. "Gandalf said the spell is broken!"

"So it is," Gandalf confirmed. "It might be more dangerous to leave her unattended, King Theoden."

Theoden still looked unconvinced.

"She is my friend," Aragorn added his words to the others' plea. "I have known her for many years. Please, I request that you allow her to come with us."

Theoden regarded the Ranger attentively, and then sighed. "Very well, Lord Aragorn. My people and I owe much to you. I shall grant you your request. But once in Edoras, I want her guarded day and night. No one will be allowed to approach her without my permission until I know what she is. Is that understood?"

"It will be done as you wish," Aragorn acquiesced with relief.

* * *

"There! I see the stairs, Mr. Frodo!" Sam panted as he lifted up his dying torch to light up the grey steps leading up to the funeral pyre sitting in the Tombs of the Kings.

Frodo was glad to be back. They had trekked along the tracks of the dried up stream for as far as they could, but they did not reach the end of it. Nor did he expect them to. The chains of mountains they were under, which he had glimpsed from Minas Tirith before departing, extended far to the West like a giant dormant dragon with high spikes that pierced the clouds.

However, the tracks still remained the only hope of the besieged people to escape from certain death.

"Do you think the war has started?" Sam asked.

On their way back, Frodo had experienced many instances of foreboding during which he almost felt as though the Ring was back around his neck, weighing him down like it had during his journey towards the Black Gate. In those instances in which images of the Ring seemed to eclipse everything else, Frodo knew that its evil magic had been at work. That could only mean that the war against Gondor had started.

"Yes, Sam," he answered. "I think it has. I just hope we have not come too late."

Hunter climbed up the steps slowly, almost carefully. He paused at the top of the stairs and sniffed at the door above him for long seconds. Sam joined him there as the wolf let out a low growl of warning. Frodo heard him and was immediately on his guard. "What is it, Hunter?"

Hunter looked back at him, his unique blue eye glinting. Frodo looked at that expressive eye and felt a connection to him that he had never felt before. The image of the shadow of a Man sitting on a stone tomb seemed to be reflected within the wolf's pupil. It was there, but at the same time Frodo knew Hunter was not seeing it physically. "There is someone on the other side?" he ventured.

Hunter nodded.

"Not Faramir?"

The wolf shook his head.

Sam was baffled. "But Lord Faramir told us no one is supposed to know of this passageway!"

"There is no use in lingering here. Let us find out who is on the other side of this door," Frodo replied simply. He slid between Hunter and Sam and lifted his arms to press his hands against the hidden door above their heads.

"What if the stranger bears ill will towards us?" Sam worried.

Hunter growled again as a dangerous glint sparkled into life in his eye. Frodo smiled. "Hunter says he will take care of him."

The giant grey wolf pressed his head against the wooden door besides Frodo's hands and the two of them slowly pushed on it and opened it upwards. The latched door fell sideways in a cloud of dust and Frodo gripped the hilt of Sting to climb up carefully. Hunter was right on his heels and Sam followed closely behind.

The Man sitting on the tomb right outside the latched door slowly stood up and unfolded to his whole height. A familiar sneer, etched on a face rimmed by grey hair, looked down upon their stunned faces.

"Lord Denethor!" Sam babbled.

Frodo was not too surprised.

From far away and outside the crypt, he suddenly caught the distant sounds of rocks clashing against walls, of Orcs gurgling and Men screaming.

Terrible dread filled him at the sounds of war. "Sauron is here," he whispered.

"Indeed he is," Lord Denethor hissed. "I was thinking it was about time your little company came back, if you intended to come back at all." His cold eyes appraised Frodo. "After all, one cannot expect much of cowards and traitors."

"Hey! We are no traitors and certainly not cowards either!" Sam hurled back with clenched fists.

Denethor dismissed him completely. Still focused on Frodo, he asked: "So, have you found the exit in the mountains?" Seeing their looks of surprise, he snickered. "Don't think for an instant that I have been blind to your little ploys with Faramir. I am ashamed of my own son's stupidity. Does he truly think the whole populace of Gondor can escape from the clutches of the Dark Lord? If they escape through the mountains, they will leave a trail that the Orcs will easily follow. And then they shall perish in the dark tunnels of the earth instead of burning in the besieged city. What difference will it make to them?"

Suddenly, Hunter smelled something in the air and started howling. The sound was so tragic and unexpected that both hobbits flinched.

Frodo passed a hand on Hunter's neck to appease him, but the wolf continued its poignant chant.

"Oh, he must have sensed the body," Denethor declared matter-of-factly.

Foreboding assaulted Frodo. "What body?"

Hunter started trotting towards the entrance of the Tombs. The heavy doors leading out into the parapet were hanging open. Two guards holding lances were posted at the doors, and between them, on the cold ground, lay the sandy wolf. His golden eyes were half open, but unseeing.

Hunter pushed at the wolf with his muzzle, but it was already dead. Hunter raised his huge head to the vaulted ceiling and howled again. Several wolves howled back sorrowfully from outside the citadel; Frodo heard them clearly in spite of the ruckus of battle.

He approached the dead wolf and heard Sam inhale sharply behind him.

"That was Boromir," his gardener let out with horror in his voice.

Frodo saw that a good portion of the wolf's abdomen was gone; a bloody and gaping hole was all that remained.

"How did this happen?" Sam exclaimed again, his voice full of sorrow and angry disbelief.

Denethor's laughter reached them and Frodo whirled to face him. The words of accusation that had been about to spurt out of his mouth died in his throat when he saw the glint of madness in Denethor's once sharp eyes.

"That beast was not Boromir!" Denethor was clamoring. "My son must have died a long time ago and that monster took his shape. He was an impostor! That is why he dared to hit me. Me, his own father! He was not my son!"

He laughed again throatily as tears suddenly and unexpectedly streamed down his cheeks.

"Did you kill him?" Frodo threw out hoarsely.

The laughter erased itself from Denethor's features as though it had never been. His eyes were full of menace as he answered with something else entirely: "If you have found the way out, I command you to lead me to it!"

Frodo stared up at him with disbelief. "You would escape and abandon your own people?"

Denethor drew his face to an inch of the hobbit. "Don't be foolish. There are women and children and elderly with them. They will never make it out alive! If they come, they will lead to the death of those who do stand a chance to escape! If I remain alive, I can build a new citadel, and this time… yes… this time, I will be the King!"

Frodo shook his head. "How can you be a King with no people to rule? When I saw you meant to face Sauron in battle, I thought you must have had a plan at the very least. But since the beginning you meant to use the garrison to distract Sauron while you escaped by yourself!"

It was not a question. Sam regarded his master anxiously, and whispered: "It's no use trying to reason with him, Mr. Frodo. He is long gone. We need to search for Lord Faramir!"

"Faramir," Denethor spat out the word disdainfully. "He has never been but a fool and a hindrance! What did I ever do to deserve this ill fate? One son claimed by evil and the other a thorn at my side and the spy of Mithrandir!"

He whirled around and suddenly seized Frodo's arm. "You will lead me to the exit you found. _Now!"_ The Steward was so close that Frodo could smell the stench of his breath and see the silver in his unkempt beard.

Hunter snarled in warning.

Frodo's eyes narrowed as he extricated himself from Denethor's grip with a dry tug of his arm. "I'm sorry, but I shall only show the way to Lord Faramir. Where is he?"

"How dare you defy me!" Denethor fumed and made a motion as though to grab him.

Hunter was suddenly standing between them, stiff legged and tall, towering over Denethor with hackles bristling. Sam also unsheathed his sword. Frodo looked around in alarm and stiffened at the prospect of blood being shed. This was not what he had wanted! How had things turned out this way? And he could not believe Boromir was dead. Had Denethor killed his own son upon learning he had become a wolf? A cold hand clutched at his heart as he met Denethor's deranged gaze.

At that moment of high tension, Faramir's clear voice reached them from outside the funeral chamber. "Over here!" he was clamoring. "Make haste! It's not much further!"

The sound of many pairs of footsteps accompanied his words.

"Lord Faramir!" Sam called out hastily, not seeking to mask his relief.

Faramir's silhouette appeared on the other side of the parapet, soon rejoined by a group of Gondorian common folk. Frodo saw a sea of women, children, cripples and elderly. His heart sank as Denethor's voice rang again in his mind: "_You will never make it."_

The folk following after Faramir only amounted to a little more than a hundred. "The Orcs are taking the city faster than we can re-organize our defenses," Faramir panted upon joining them. "These are the only people who have managed to come here."

Sam looked at the haggard-looking folk. The women were carrying the younger children in one arm while clutching at a bag of their possessions in the other. Their clothes were shredded and their faces were smeared with soot and dirt and the blood of their loved-ones who had perished.

Faramir knelt down in front of Frodo and clasped both of the hobbit's shoulders. "I am so glad to see you, my friend." The emotion in his voice made a lump grow in Frodo's own throat.

"So am I!" he replied steadily.

The Man tried to smile but it came out as a grimace. A deep sorrow was nestled in the depths of his usually placid brown eyes. Frodo knew where that sadness came from.

"What happened to Boromir?" he asked softly.

Faramir gave only a cursory look at the dead sandy wolf. "We were fighting on the third level," he answered in a stupor. "The Orcs and the Trolls had made short work of the main and second gates. We were pushing back the enemy as best we could while urging the people to climb up to the next level. Then, the Nazgul descended on us without warning. Everything was black and cold for an instant, and before I knew it, the fell beast was on me. He was going to seize me when Boromir interposed himself between us. The Nazgul tore him apart in front of my very eyes. I managed to salvage his body, or at least, what remains of it."

Faramir stood back up on his feet brusquely. "I am the captain of guards now. I have to return to my soldiers. Please take good care of these people. They are good people. They might be all that remains of Gondor after this battle comes to term."

Frodo saw that his face was ashen white. There was a haunted look in his eyes as he spoke, and Frodo knew he did not expect to survive the war.

"Won't you come with us?" Sam blurted out with tears gathering in his eyes.

Faramir paused and looked at them both. The small and genuine smile that he addressed them was so poignant and noble that Frodo did not think he would ever forget it. "You are these people's last hope, as these people are Gondor's. Farewell, my brave friends."

Sam let his tears fall freely as the Man of Gondor turned his back on them and swiftly ran away along the parapet. Frodo engraved the image of his retreating back in his mind and felt a sort of stillness and calmness wash over him.

"My name is Frodo Baggins," he proclaimed loudly to the gathered people. Most of them did not even look down at him, too busy wallowing in their own sorrows and fears, or too busy soothing and consoling those around them who were showing more distress than they were. However, as the hobbit continued to speak, one by one they set their gaze upon his small frame clad in black and gold armor.

"My friend Samwise Gamgee and I have explored the trails under the mountains that hold the beacons of Amon Din. Lord Faramir says there is an exit there that leads to Rohan. We have found the tracks of a dried-up stream. Although we did not have time to explore those tracks till the end to see if they indeed lead to an exit, they still remain our only chance to escape the siege Sauron has imposed on this city!"

"You are but children," a woman said with a shake of her head as she held a suckling babe against her bosom.

"We may seem like children to your eyes because of our short stature," Frodo answered in a clear voice, "but that is not the case. We are from the race of Halflings and, by our people's standards, we are men grown. I am aware of how difficult it must be for all of you to put your trust in folk who are so different from you and who clearly do not look like warriors, but I beg you to make this leap of faith. I owe much to Lord Faramir and I've given him my word that I will try to help you survive this calamity to the best of my abilities."

The sincerity in his voice must have touched their hearts then, for slowly but surely, they all clustered closer to him. Some were nodding while others regarded him solemnly.

"What are we to do now, young man?" an old lady asked in a brittle voice. The wind on the parapet tossed her white hair around her face.

Frodo studied them all and took a deep breath. "First, you must let go of most of your possessions. They will only burden you and slow you down where we will be going. However, if among your possessions you have objects that can serve to defend yourselves, such as knives or sticks, I want you to take them and keep them on you. Also, keep all the water and food that you have brought with you. I will give you a couple of minutes to get ready. Please make haste!"

The people looked at each other for a second, hesitant and afraid, but the old lady swung her cane in front of her as she let go of the bundle of clothes under her other arm. "I am ready when you are!" she exclaimed with a toothless grin.

With those words, everyone else let go of their bags as well, but not before rummaging inside to find potential weapons. A short period of commotion ensued, but soon enough the common folk were newly armed with short knives, butter knives, hammers and other daily utilities now transformed into weapons.

Frodo smiled a small smile of relief at seeing their motivation and haste. "The entrance to the mountains is this way. My friend Sam will show you the way."

Sam, as though snapping awake from a trance, suddenly nodded determinedly at Frodo before waving his arms over his head. "Over here! Follow me! There are torches inside the chamber. I will light them up and hand them out to you!"

The group of folk was silent as they followed Sam into the Tombs of Kings in a disorderly and haphazard row. Frodo stayed behind to shout encouragement and attempt to maintain some order.

The grey wolf remained in retreat on the parapet as he watched the slow procession of humans entering the funeral chamber and then going down the steps from the hidden door. But most of all, he watched the blue-eyed hobbit running to and fro along the column, motioning at the people and urging them along. The wind on the parapet made his dark curls dance around his head. Every time he moved, the metal pieces of his armor caught the orange glare of the torches and reflected them back into the dark night. He watched as Frodo helped a one-legged man up on his foot again after he had tripped and fallen. He watched as he then helped a little boy find his mother again in the crowd.

There was a fire in Frodo's blue eyes that he had never seen before. A feeling of pride and admiration swirled an instant in his chest, the same kind of feeling that he had always bore towards Allie.

He prodded the Blood link and felt the sparkle of life belonging to his Queen. But apart from that, there was no trace of her consciousness.

"_Allie, you have chosen a good man,"_ he told her. "_Stay alive. Stay alive to see the kind of person that your beloved has become. You have probably known it all along, but you will want to see it for yourself._"

For only answer, a deadly stench suddenly drifted to his nostrils. He narrowed his eye and made out the shapes of Orcs dashing up the parapet from the throne room. So the City had truly fallen.

The shadow of a Nazgul swept over them, accompanied by its characteristic shriek of death. The folk who were still waiting to penetrate into the chamber covered their ears and screamed.

At the sight of the Orcs, Allie's earlier command echoed once more inside Hunter's head. _"Destroy every Orc, Goblin and Uruk-hai."_

Never had her voice sounded sweeter to the wolf's remaining ear. _"Yes, my Queen!"_ he roared his assent as he charged towards the approaching threat.

Frodo whirled around when he felt the wolf depart. "Hunter!" he shouted. "No, come back!"

But the wolf had already reached the group of Orcs and had engaged them in battle. His massive shape blocked most of the parapet, becoming an effective barrier between the refugees and the approaching Orcs. Frodo had never thought the city would be taken this quickly. He had a desperate thought towards Faramir, hoping he was still alive.

He ran to the railing of the parapet and peered down into the fields. Millions of torches illuminated Sauron's giant army; their orange light made it seem as though the plains and the city were on fire. Frodo stepped back, feeling his mind reel at the sight of so much power and so much destruction. Suddenly, he spotted Sauron himself standing admist the Orcs at the broken gates of Minas Tirith. The hobbit knew Sauron could not have possibly felt his gaze from across this distance, but nonetheless the giant in helmet down on the field slowly lifted his face to look at the small hobbit peering down from the bridge.

Frodo could not see the eyes hidden in the black depths of that monstrous helmet, but nonetheless he felt their gaze on his skin like a brazier. Suddenly, he was transported back to the plains of Gorgoroth. The Ring was burning at his finger after he had put it on. A shadow sprang out from Sauron's flaming eye and a second later a dark consciousness penetrated his soul and tore it up from the inside.

Frodo used all his power of will to look away from the sight of Sauron standing victorious in front of the taken Minas Tirith. For a moment, he clung desperately to the railing as he breathed in and out harshly. A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead to land on the floor.

He turned towards the remaining people and yelled in a voice made hoarse by fear: "Faster now, faster! Get into the tunnels!"

That seemed to snatch the folk from their terror of the Nazgul. They slowly uncovered their ears and then started running inside the crypt in a mad stampede. Frodo searched for Sam but saw no signs of him. His gardener must have already gone into the tunnels to lead the people to the dried-up stream. He suddenly wished he had spoken with him one last time, to bid him good luck, and to tell him he would see him at the exit, even if that might never happen.

With a startle, he also remembered Lord Denethor's presence. He looked around for him, but did not see him anywhere. The Steward must have entered the mountain as well in all the commotion.

Hunter let out a growl that made Frodo whip his head in his direction. A few Orcs had managed to bypass the wolf and were now running towards the hobbit.

Frodo marked a moment of unabashed terror as his mind blanked out and his legs became two dead logs; but then determination mingled with anger exploded within him in a sudden burst. "I can do this!" he shouted to himself as he unsheathed Sting and stood his ground. He studied the cadence of the two approaching Orcs and waited for them to arrive. One swung his sword, and Frodo shifted sideways. He blocked the sword of the second Orc and pushed him back. The Orc hit the railing and then went over it, falling with a cry. In the same second, Frodo turned towards the first Orc, bent down and cut at his legs. The Orc fell down and Frodo finished him off with a stroke.

Hunter had pushed the remaining Orcs back inside the tower leading down to the throne room. The hobbit looked in direction of the funeral pyre and saw that the last woman had now disappeared down the secret stairs. His eyes suddenly felt on the corpse of Boromir still sprawled at the entrance. Many people had trampled on him in their mad escape.

Frodo knelt down beside the sandy wolf and looked at him achingly as he ran a hand down the coarse fur of his head. "We have had our differences, Boromir, but you have always been a man of worth. Allie gave you a second chance at life and you gave that life to your little brother. I will always remember what you did today until death claims me. Farewell."

He then lit up a torch for himself with quick, frantic movements. Behind him, Hunter was still battling the Orcs. Quickly, Frodo fetched a pallet of dry straw from inside the funeral chamber and then deposited it next to the wolf's body. Then, he lit it up with his torch and watched as the flames engulfed first the pallet, then the head.

Twirling around, he saw that Hunter was now but a distant shape still fighting inside the other tower. Cupping his mouth with his hands, Frodo shouted out his name.

"It is time to go!" he yelled again.

He saw one shiny eye looking at him from the shadows within the tower, before Hunter pounced on another Orc and disappeared completely from sight. Frodo stood there for a moment in petrified shock. When the meaning of Hunter's actions blew over him like a winter chill, he felt tears of wrench prick at his eyes.

Someone had to hold back the Orcs.

But he couldn't possibly leave the grey wolf! They had bonded over their time spent together by their common love for one wolf girl. In that regard, they had understood each other better than anyone else.

Frodo's decision was sudden and it broke his heart, but he refused to let his mind linger on it. There was still so much he had to do. The fire eating away at the sandy wolf was still burning bright when Frodo climbed down the wooden stairs, pulled on the rope of the latched door and closed it above him, plunging himself into darkness.

He quickly caught up with the end of the line of refugees trudging slowly in the darkness. The last woman was walking with her head bent to avoid hitting it against the low ceiling of the passageway. A little girl was whimpering as she trailed behind her. The woman almost screamed when Frodo called out to her from behind as softly as he could. At the light of his torch, Frodo saw a tired face framed with strands of dirty brown hair.

"It is only me," Frodo reassured her.

The woman's face filled with relief and she continued on once more, following the back of the old man walking in front of her. The little girl turned back to look at Frodo with a tear-stained face, and Frodo gave her a warm smile that she did not return.

They walked on for hours and hours with only the torches to light their way. Frodo kept looking behind him, fearing that the Orcs would catch up to them. However, with every branching in the tunnels, his fears eased a bit more. Even the Orcs would have trouble finding them in this maze of passageways.

He would have felt even better if Hunter had been with them. He thought back to his giant shape blocking the advance of the Orcs and felt a heaviness in his stomach. He could only tell himself that Hunter would live; he was a warrior and had been through much worse. He would live.

Now, if only the dried-up stream truly led to an exit! He did not want to imagine the prospect of all these people, himself and Sam included, dying trapped in the entrails of the earth like vulgar worms.

He approached his torch to the ground and saw that they had not yet reached the stream. However, he could already sense the fatigue from the people trudging on in front of him.

Over the last couple of hours, they had passed by two elderly women collapsed on the ground, dead from exhaustion. Frodo had carried their corpses until the next intersection of tunnels, panting and sweating, and had then deposited them on the trail that they were not taking.

And still they marched forward and ever deeper into the mountains, sometimes walking, sometimes crawling. The hours passed by so very slowly and the darkness was a constant heavy mantle enveloping them from all sides.

"No more!" the woman in front of her wept. "No more! I can't breathe!"

"You can do it," Frodo urged her. "You must, if only for your daughter!"

The little girl was looking at the scene from the side with wide and hollow eyes. "Mama, I'm thirsty," she said as she pulled on her mother's dress.

The woman pressed the little girl's head against her chest and had no choice but to continue on.

They reached and passed the cave where Sam, Hunter and Frodo had taken a break on their first time there. This time, they took a break as well, but a shorter one, just to drink some water. Frodo could see that if the folk rested for too long, they would not be able to stand back up.

He hoped Sam was doing all right, that he had already reached the dried-up stream.

On and on they marched until Frodo could feel the weight of the mountain itself pressing down over his head. His armor weighed him down with each new step and the shirt he wore underneath his armor was soaked through with sweat.

"My Lord?"

Frodo took support on the wall of the tunnel with one arm as the other wiped the sweat threatening to overflow into his eyes.

"My Lord?" the woman marching in front of him called again.

Frodo looked up, not trying to hide his surprise at the fact that she had been addressing him. "Pardon me," he said awkwardly, and then: "I am no Lord, my lady."

She smiled for the first time. "And I am not a milady. But you are like a young Lord to me. That is why I addressed you so. Would you like some water?"

Frodo brushed over his own flask, and shook his head slowly, but with gratitude. "I still have some water left. Save that for your little girl."

The little girl looked at him with those round eyes of hers that were constantly filled with fear.

"Are we almost there?" the mother inquired.

Frodo did not want to lie to her. "We might still have a long way to go."

A shriek suddenly echoed back from the people walking in front, followed by gargles and snarls. There was a commotion in the line of refugees, which soon morphed into daunted and terrified screams. Then, the people started their stampede back down the line towards where Frodo stood.

The mother grabbed the little girl and carried her up in her arms with wild eyes. "What is happening?" she shouted.

Frodo unsheathed Sting and stared in horror at the sword glinting blue.

At the same time, one of the refugees screamed: "Goblins! We are under attack by Goblins!"

Those words sowed further discord among the common folk. Frodo pushed his way past them to reach the source of the threat. "Make way!" he shouted. "Let me pass!"

His voice, however, got buried under the anxious screams of the people running for their lives, pushing and pulling at each other in the narrow tunnels. Frodo was pushed to the ground as running feet hit the earth on either side of him. He crawled forward, cursing at himself for not having had Sting out. The fact that no enemies had been present when he had made the first trip with Sam and Hunter had made him stupidly lower his guard.

He could hear the Goblins' sneaky feet and squeaky voices as they emerged from an adjacent tunnel and descended upon the humans. Globular and glassy eyes peeked at them out of pointy faces. Small mouths opened to show rows of sharp teeth.

An old man and a pregnant woman already lay dead under the first wave of assault. Some Goblins stopped to feast, but the majority gave chase to the rest of the human refugees. They managed to corner a little boy. The latter wailed as he tried to crawl away from them from above the old man's corpse. Gathering his courage, Frodo interposed himself between the Goblins and their prey.

One of the Goblins hissed at him and Frodo cut open his throat with a wild cry. Some of the creature's blood flew over the air to land on his armor and cheek. At the sensation of the warm liquid on his face, something strange happened. His enemies were approaching, some of the them crawling along the walls like spiders, but Frodo suddenly felt a wave of tranquility sweep over him. His blue eyes studied their advance and saw how narrow the tunnel was. They could not come at him all at once even if they wanted to.

As though sliding into a trance, he lifted up Sting and attacked. Sting's blade glinted bright blue as it slashed right and left. With each cut it produced, it seemed to become more and more an extension of Frodo's own arm. The world seemed to slow down around the hobbit as he stood in front of the tunnel and cut down each Goblin that was trying to break through.

"Over here! Keep together! Don't lose sight of the person in front of you!" a distant voice ordered from behind him.

But Frodo's attention was completely focused on the wave of Goblins. He could feel his muscles working as Sting cut through bone and flesh. He was focused and yet detached from it all at the same time, as though he were out of his body and watching himself fight.

For no reason in particular, his mind suddenly drifted to this one time Bilbo had taught Allie and him how to make beef stew. Back in that other life, the sky outside the round window was blue, and a nice breeze was drifting through, bringing with it the scent of freshly cut grass and the perfume of honeysuckles. Frodo was cutting the meat quite messily, the handle of his knife slipping under his greasy fingers. Allie was highly amused at his messy work even though she was not faring that much better herself. As he looked over at her and teased her about the red chaos on her own cutting board, the breeze whispered past the window, making her wild curls dance around her head and fall over her laughing eyes. He had fallen silent then.

Bilbo, on the other side of him, had already managed to cut half of his steak into small squares.

"Press harder," he instructed merrily to the kids. "Feel the blade go through the meat and then just slide it back and forth."

He came to Frodo and placed his hand above his. He squeezed his nephew's fingers closer around the knife, pressed downward with precise strength, and then slid the blade back and forth, back and forth, until the piece of meat separated itself from the rest.

Frodo's eyes crinkled in wonder at seeing the job done.

"Show me too, Uncle Bilbo!" Allie exclaimed.

Frodo watched as Bilbo stood beside her and guided her hand like he had guided his own. His uncle bent forward with the effort, and his head lowered to be next to Allie's. When her knife cut through the meat cleanly, Allie gave a small victorious squeal and turned to Frodo with a happy smile. Frodo thought the sight of her and Bilbo standing like that with the summer breeze in their hair was the most heartwarming thing he'd ever seen.

And then, he returned to the task at hand.

_Press harder. Feel the blade go through the meat and then slide back and forth_. Sting came alive in his hand and made an efficient cutting motion that made the Goblin collapse.

Frodo stopped to stare at the mountain of dead Goblins now blocking the entrance of the tunnel to the rest of them who came behind.

_Not so different from cutting steak._ The thought almost made him laugh if not for the hand that suddenly closed around his arm.

He whirled Sting around, but stopped the motion at the sight of a Man panting and holding a bloody sword of his own. Frodo did not remember him at all from the line of refugees.

"Let's go!" the Man announced hoarsely before pulling Frodo unceremoniously after him.

"Wait!" Frodo pulled free of his grasp when his eyes fell on the little girl lying sideways in the dust of the passageway, trembling like a leaf. Her mother was lying on top of her but she was unmoving. The torch burning away next to them cast its orange light on the horrible gash on her back. Frodo suppressed the sound of horror and pity he was close to letting out; instead, he turned the woman's body away from the little girl.

He freed her from her mother's stiff arms and carried her up in his own. She was heavier than he expected.

The Man with the sword beckoned at him urgently as he started running away. Frodo followed him as best he could along cool and dark passageways. They soon caught up with the rest of the refugees running away from the Goblins. They changed tunnels several times until Frodo lost all hope of finding the right trail again. However, by doing so, they also left behind the squealing and squalling of the Goblins.

They slowed their cadence once they reached a dark and humid cave. At the light of the torches that had been preserved, Frodo noted about thirty survivors from the Goblin attack gathered in the cave. He could only hope the rest had followed Sam and managed to escape as well.

Frodo tried to gently deposit the little girl on the ground, but she clung to him desperately. "Where is mama?" she whispered brokenly against him.

Frodo patted her hair with a heavy heart. "What is your name?" he asked instead.

"Tania," the answer was murmured against his armor.

Frodo peered down at her clinging shape, barely making out a mass of brown hair over a ripped dress that once had been of a nice green.

"Tania, that is a lovely name," was all he managed to say.

She did not reply, but started whimpering softly. Frodo did not know what to do until he saw the Man with the sword beckoning to him from against the cave wall. The hobbit sat down beside him with a tired sigh, with Tania sitting on his lap with her arms around his neck. She must not have been older than four or five.

"Here, a bite of food," the Man offered a piece of dried bread to Frodo, who accepted it silently. He tried offering some to Tania, but she remained unresponsive, simply clinging to Frodo more tightly.

As the hobbit ate, he studied the man sitting next to him. He was now sure that he had not been with the refugees before. Looking around, he saw another man deeper inside the cave helping an old lady settle down against a boulder. That one must have been the one to lead their group to this temporary sanctuary.

He observed the man next to him, noticing his high brow under a receding hair line. His eyes were small and deep, and seemed to be of a dark brown under the light of his torch. Frodo suddenly found him to look familiar.

"You were guarding the doors to the Tombs of the Kings when Sam and I came back," he stated carefully.

The man looked down at him with an unreadable expression. "Lord Denethor asked me to follow him there and guard the door. He also gave us the task of carrying poor Lord Boromir's corpse up there." There was a grim silence, and then: "My name is Earnil and my comrade over there is Aldamir. When we saw the Orcs coming up onto the parapet, we knew Gondor had lost the war. So we followed the rest of the common folk into the mountains." He looked down on his lap darkly and said no more.

"Where is Lord Denethor now?" Frodo asked with a cursory look around the cave. The Steward was not amongst them.

Something dark came over Earnil's eyes when he answered: "I saw him last right before the Goblins attacked. He might have succumbed to them."

There was no love in Earnil's voice when he spoke of the Steward. Frodo suddenly suspected Earnil had left him to die at the hands of the Goblins. However, he did not voice that out loud. In fact, he said nothing and just finished eating his bread.

Denethor had only been an ephemeral presence in his life, one who had borne him no good will, and yet at the thought of the Steward's death, he still felt a pang within his chest. He was tired of seeing or hearing about people dying.

He was also worried about finding the dried-up stream again from here. He was exhausted and his right arm still rang from his fight with the Goblins. He palpated his flask of water and found it empty. His fingers then brushed against the waterskin containing the Ent water. That one was full. But that one was not for drinking.

The Man offered him his own flask brusquely. "Here, drink," he offered.

Frodo looked up at him with tired gratitude. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. We should keep moving before those foul Goblins smell us out again."

Frodo nodded in assent and rubbed at his eyes tiredly. He felt Tania shifting a bit on his lap and ran an appeasing hand through her hair as he presented the water to her. "You have to drink something, Tania. Everyone here will take good care of you. Your mother is not here right now, so you have to be all the braver."

She raised a tear-stricken face towards him that broke his heart a little. "But I'm scared," she whimpered.

Frodo kept caressing her hair. "I'm scared too, Tania. Still, we have to go on so that we can live. Your mother did everything she could to protect you, and so it is your duty to cherish this life she has worked so hard to protect. Do you understand what I mean?"

Tania remained silent for a time, and then she whispered: "I think so."

"Good girl. Start by drinking some water."

Slowly, Tania looked up at his face. He was smiling down at her warmly as he held out the flask. Finally, she agreed to take a sip of water from Earnil's flask and then reluctantly stopped clinging onto Frodo when the latter stood up.

"You said you found the tracks of a dried-up stream?" Earnil spoke loud enough for most of the people in the cave to hear.

Frodo shifted uncomfortably when he sensed all sets of eyes on him. "Yes. But now I am no longer confident to find them again. I don't know where we are."

"There is water here," an old man cackled from the depths of the cave.

Frodo walked briskly to where he was and peeked down with wonder at a small pond in a cavity in the ground. He lifted his gaze to follow the damp walls overlooking it and saw drops of water forming on the ceiling before dripping down into the pond. Long ago, those drops of water might have been an actual waterfall, but the change in climate must have dried it up.

"The water is flowing away from this small pond," Earnil's friend, Aldamir, remarked beside Frodo. His voice startled the hobbit a bit.

Aldamir saw that, and shrugged a little in apology before extending his hand. "My name is Aldamir."

"I am Frodo," the hobbit said and shook it.

Aldamir smiled from the depths of his brown beard. "I know. Lord Boromir has spoken much good about you, and about the heavy responsibilities that have been thrown upon your small shoulders, Mr. Ring-bearer."

Frodo started walking along the thin stream of water departing from the pond, not wanting to talk about the Quest, or the Ring, or any of it. The thin stream idly flowed within the cracks in the ground, before disappearing into the gloom. Aldamir kept pace with him, and spoke up again: "Lord Boromir was the best captain the White City has seen for a long time. He's always led us to victory; his mere presence gave strength to his men. It is beyond sickening that he had to meet his end in such a cruel way."

"Boromir died on the battlefield, protecting someone who was dear to him. The way he died was cruel indeed, but his death was not meaningless. If I have to face my end before this war is over, I want to face it in a way that means something to someone."

Frodo then met Aldamir's gaze and saw something akin to esteem in those deep eyes. "You are right, little one," the man said. "But let us just hope neither one of us will have to face our ends any time soon."

Frodo pointed at the stream leaking away into the darkness of one of the tunnels. "I believe this is the way."

He was right. After walking for another couple of miles, the stream died up and became the tracks that Frodo, Sam and Hunter had previously come across from another direction.

Their group of thirty or something refugees followed it with a bit of renewed eagerness. Aldamir and Frodo led them, and Earnil closed the line. This time, Frodo had Sting out and ready, not wanting to miss the blue glint off the blade again.

Tania walked close behind him, with her hand clasped in Frodo's. Frodo could see that she was trying to be brave and to not complain too much about the stuffiness of the tunnels and the long hours of walking. However, when she tripped for the third time, Aldamir bent over and carried her up in his arms like she weighed no more than a bag of feathers.

"You will feel the wind across your cheeks again, lass," he told her determinedly. "I will get you there, even if it's the last thing I do."

Frodo looked back at Aldamir's broad back with a feeling of security. In more ways than one, he was glad the two men had been amongst them. They were strong and knew how to fight. More protection could only be a blessing.

After that, Frodo didn't know for how many more hours they walked, following the seemingly endless tracks of the dried up stream. The refugees were exhausted to the bones and also dehydrated. Several elderly people simply chose to stay behind, saying they could walk no further even if Goblins were at their tails.

The worst was that the water was gone a long time ago, and so was the food. In the end, Frodo ended up passing around his waterskin of Ent water with a heavy heart. He refused to think of what that meant, and simply focused on the fact that this was something Allie would have wanted if it meant saving people's lives.

Finally, on the fifth day of their trek in the bellies of the earth, or at least so Frodo thought, the hobbit felt he had reached his last limit. They had stopped to rest more and more often, leaning or sitting against the walls of the tunnels.

From the thirty people who had gathered at the caves, only twenty still followed. "This might be it, lad," Aldamir spoke weakly from beside him. "We might not even be halfway to the exit yet. It was a mad hope to begin with."

Frodo swallowed some saliva past his burning throat. "No, we have to continue!" he spoke the words more to himself than to the man.

Aldamir was holding a sleeping Tania in his arms. His eyes were dejected and hollow, without the fire that had been burning in them the previous day. Frodo never thought one day could bring such a change of morale, but their situation did look dire. Were Sam and the others still continuing on forward, had they reached the exit, or at worst, had they succumbed to the Goblins?

Frodo's head suddenly felt as heavy as the boulder he was leaning against.

"I have to continue," he whispered with his head in between his bent knees. "I can't die here. What good would dying here bring anyone? If I admit defeat, I would stop honoring my promise with Lord Faramir. If I admit defeat, I will never see her again."

His throat closed off and he pressed his fists hard against his eyes. No, crying would just make him more dehydrated. No matter how desperate he was, he had to try until the bitter end.

A distant sound made him jerk his head upright. "Someone's coming!" he whispered.

Aldamir looked down at him wearily and said something, but Frodo did not hear. He pricked up his ears and heard it again.

"Mr. Frodo!" a more than familiar voice echoed down the tunnel from far ahead.

"Sam!" Frodo shouted with such joy that his voice broke.

Then, seconds later, Sam's shape trotted down the tunnel towards them and came into the light of their dying torches, looking to Frodo's tired eyes like a divine apparition.

Sam's eyes also lit up at the sight of him and then filled with tears. "Mr. Frodo! I knew you were still alive! I knew it!"

The two hobbits hugged each other fiercely, before Sam took notice of the haggard faces turned their way. "I found the exit!" he shouted out excitedly. "My group of people are already outside the mountains. I came back to look for you; oh, how glad I am that I have found you! Come! It is not far now! Come!"

Frodo had never heard words that came closer to salvation. He felt like a drowning man being thrown a floating buoy.

There was no better fuel than renewed hope, which is what Frodo and the little group of refugees came to learn in the darkness of the tunnels that they thought would become their tombs. Excited, almost euphoric, they clambered back up on their feet and followed Sam towards the light at the end of the tunnel.

But Sam was not done bearing his news. As they walked, he turned around and said in a voice only meant for Frodo: "Mr. Merry is out there with the wolves. They had sensed our coming! There are also several Rohirrim riders on their way here, bearers of water and food and carts for the injured. They will probably be here by the time we come out of the mountains!"

But the information that made light return to his world and meaning to his life was when Sam finished with: "Mr. Merry says they have found Allie in Isengard. She is alive!"

_Allie was alive and out of enemy hands!_

That thought alone made a thrumming euphoria grow in Frodo's chest. That thought alone sustained him in a more efficient manner than either water or food. He felt like he was finally coming awake from this terrible and otherworldly reality that had been plunged in until now. A sudden and burning desire to see her washed over him like the wave of an ocean caught in a raging storm.

He clenched his right hand tighter around the hilt of Sting, his heart filled with hardiness.

_Allie, I'm coming to you now. Wait for me for a little longer!_

That was what he told himself as he walked the last miles in the oppressive darkness under the mountains. Finally, pale sunlight shone through the round exit ahead and he found himself standing under an open sky once more. The brown and yellow grass of the plains of Rohan ruffled under his feet and sang softly in the cool afternoon breeze.

Later, much later, when Frodo thought back to this moment, he was glad that Sam had chosen to deliver the bad news with the open sky over their heads and the smoothness of grass under his feet. If Sam had spoken it in the darkness of the tunnels, Frodo was not sure he could have found the strength to walk those last few miles.

* * *

Here is another chapter, my dear friends! I hope you have liked, enjoyed, and will leave me your impressions ;)

**Uchiha no Kaori:** Hey! Yeah they will be reunited in the next chapter! I really missed writing about them being together too! And yes, all the fluffy stuff was awesome to write, but now things are not looking so good for Allie. It was weird for me too to write about her being cruel, because usually those scenes belong to Informant. But Allie IS someone with darkness in her, like most of us I suppose. When it's unleashed by Saruman's spell and when she allows it to take over, it's not a pretty sight I know! I enjoyed hearing your thoughts about this! thank you so much for your review! :D

**Guest:** Not sure when you read this, but thanks for letting me know about the Doors song :)

** Amore2210LovesFanfic:** Yeah, I know how you feel lol. I've been on the receiving end of the waiting too. The chapter's here though! It takes me time to write it cuz they are so long! But I think it makes the wait more worth it than if the chapter was just like 600 characters or something. Yeah, so writing about that aspect of Allie was new but exciting at the same time. Lately, my writing can be a bit dark due to my Game of Thrones' influence lol, not gonna lie. But yeah, Saruman's death was pretty gory, and yet I had fun writing it. I'm feeling so sadistic now XD. Thank you so much for the review in any case! :D


	49. I Heard Your Voice

**I Heard Your Voice**

Shadows within shadows.

Voices within voices.

Mazes within mazes.

She tried to find herself, but she was like those motes of dust you saw floating under the rays of sunlight filtering through the open window. There were too many _hers _scattered all across this white space of emptiness.

She knew that she had once been a single entity; one single mote of dust floating in the universe instead of the ten million motes that she had become, but she couldn't remember how being whole used to feel like.

The white space was a prison; and someone was singing a sad song.

* * *

Frodo breathed in deeply the open air of the plains of Rohan while marvelling at the warmth of the sun on his face. The shadows of Mordor had not yet extended this far West. The skies overhead were of a blue almost too blindingly beautiful to behold. Wisps of white clouds flew by on that big expanse of blue sky, pushed on by a swift northbound wind.

The White Mountains were behind him, white-tipped and streaked with black. On the ground, the plains extended far to the horizon line. It was a land partly flat and partly ridged, laid out like a sea of green reeds intermittently interspersed with boulders with heights ranging from a few inches to several feet tall. The grass-lands rolled until they became hills and valleys in the distance. A stream issued from the dale, flowing like a thread of silver across the land.

It was a strange and yet captivating landscape that contrasted in every way with the stuffy atmosphere of the underground passageways. Frodo took in the view and breathed in deep the sense of freedom.

The refugees were trickling out of the mountain behind Frodo now; they were all sobbing in utmost exhilaration at still being alive. Some were praying loudly to the Gods, their hands extended to the sky and the sun and the birds flying past. Others fell on their knees and pressed their foreheads to the ground, inhaling the deep scent of the earth.

Frodo felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and glanced up at the face of Aldamir, who was still cradling a sleeping Tania in his arms. "Thank you, little Lord, we owe it all to you."

Frodo found himself beaming up at the Man. "It is thanks to you and Earnil also. Your guidance after the Goblin attack saved us all."

Before Aldamir could reply, many of the Gondorian folk had circled around Frodo as well. With tears streaming down their cheeks and blissful smiles on their weary faces, they touched him on the arm, on the hands, on any part of him they could reach, and offered heartfelt words of their most profound gratitude.

The cripple that Frodo had helped at the beginning, a middle-aged man, ruffled the hobbit's hair affectionately. The old lady with the cane, although wheezing slightly from the long days walking underground, came to Frodo and enveloped him in the embrace of her frail arms.

"You are our savior, lad," she murmured against him. "If there is anything this old woman can do for you before she dies, you only have to name it."

Frodo watched them all with such emotion that he could not speak. These people were all strangers, and he hadn't gotten a chance to take a proper look at any of them, and yet in this instant he felt thoroughly connected to them in both heart and mind through the things they had endured together. He didn't remember the last time he had been able to stand this tall to face the world around him. Ever since Sauron had taken the Ring back, guilt had constricted his soul, squeezing it dry. The heavy burden of his failure had weighed him down until he couldn't breathe. But now, that burden was gradually stripped off with every look, every whispered "thank you", and every gentle touch on the hand by the folk that he had helped to save.

A woman holding a crying baby knelt before him and gently wiped away tears he hadn't know he had shed. Then, she deposited a light kiss on his forehead. "Thank you for giving my son a chance to live," she said in a wavering voice. "Thank you, Frodo Baggins. I shall always remember your name."

"Frodo!" a small voice called out from beside him.

Frodo looked down into the smiling face of Tania. He had never seen her smile before, and he thought that sight more beautiful than even the sun in the clear sky. She was missing a tooth and she looked dreadfully tired, but still she smiled at him from the heart the way only a child could. "We are under the sky again!" she exclaimed. "We made it! I was brave, and we made it!"

"You were the bravest," Frodo told her before he hugged her tight.

And lastly, Earnil was in front of him, his hazel eyes crinkling as he stuck out his huge hand to shake his own.

Then, from far away, the sound of riders reached their ears. The refugees turned their heads in that direction and started clamoring joyously as they beckoned the arrival of a group of Rohirrim riders carrying the banners of a galloping white horse across a green field, the symbol of Rohan.

The riders were tall men upon proud and long-legged mounts. Their fair hair cascaded out of their golden helms and fell on their shoulders in small braids. The riders dismounted, brought a cart around, and soon started distributing water, food and blankets to the waiting people.

Aldamir seized Tania up in his arms again. "Come on, let us get some food in that thin belly of yours, girl."

Tania reached out to Frodo from the Man's arms. "Come with us, Frodo!"

Aldamir patted her back and flashed his white teeth from amidst his thick auburn beard. "There will be time for that later, lass. The little hero no doubt wants to talk to his friends."

He then addressed a wink to Frodo before turning away.

Frodo smiled back gratefully, took a deep breath and turned to look for Sam. He found him by the cart and saw him helping to distribute blankets to the Gondorian people. And beside him, he spotted someone he had not hoped to see again.

Merry chose that moment to look up from his tasks, and their eyes met. Merry beamed incredibly wide and Frodo found himself dashing to his friend on wobbly legs.

"Frodo!" Merry exclaimed before engulfing him in a giant hug.

Frodo pulled away to look at his friend's face. "Merry! It is so good to see you! Sam told me you would be here with the wolves, but I couldn't believe it until I saw you with my own two eyes!"

Merry scratched his neck with a wide grin. "You won't believe what I had to go through to get here, buddy! And the kinds of people and creatures I've encountered! What an adventure it has been!" His smile faded when he took in the tired lines in Frodo's face. "But I'm sure they were nothing compared to what you have gone through," he finished more serenely.

Frodo cast his eyes down. The topic of the failed Quest hung between them, heavy like a stone, before Merry brushed it away by saying: "You look way too thin, Frodo! Come, there is some fresh fruit in the cart! And some water too! It will do you much good!"

Frodo followed his friend eagerly and drank the entirety of the first flask that Merry presented to him. When he was wiping at his chin after this thirst was quenched, his eyes fell on a slender Elf with long brown hair standing near the cart, watching him with benevolence. When his brown eyes caught the hobbit looking at him, he discreetly made a beckoning motion.

Frodo walked towards him, noting that the blouse and the trousers the Elf was wearing were most definitely man-made, not at all similar to the Elven garments he had glimpsed in Rivendell or Lothlorien. That struck him as strange, but when the Elf placed a hand over his heart, bowed a little and spoke to him in a pleasantly rich voice, it all suddenly made sense.

"Hello, Frodo," he said. "We have met before, but you might not recognize me now. I am Councillor."

Frodo's heart started racing. "Councillor! You have acquired more of the water from Fangorn?"

Councillor nodded solemnly. "I made sure to replenish our stocks before leaving Fangorn for Edoras. I have a feeling it will come in handy now that we are forced to interact with the other races regarding the fate of the world. On my way here, some of the wolves scouting further east caught the scent of humans under the mountains, near these plains, and I was immediately reminded of your enterprise. Hunter has been keeping the pack updated of your actions while he was still with you, so we knew that if you were to be successful, you would come out of the mountains near this area."

Frodo felt a moment of anxiety upon hearing Hunter's name. "Hunter… is he… still alive?"

Councillor's mouth lifted up in a comforting smile. "Thank you for your concern. Yes, he was still alive last time we spoke. The war at Minas Tirith has ended in defeat for the race of Men, but Sauron will not rejoice for long in the victory. As for Hunter, he received help from his wolves when the battle was still ongoing and has managed to fall back into the mountains behind Minas Tirith. He is impulsive and proud, but even he knows when he is faced with a battle he cannot win. He intends to regroup with Protector and then come join us here."

Frodo's shoulders sagged with relief at the news.

"What about Allie?" he asked quietly, almost apprehensively. His heart started knocking against his ribcage in spite of himself.

At this, a mask fell over Councillor's polished features. "It is Allie whom I wished to discuss with you by coming here."

Frodo realized he was clenching the empty flask so hard that he had distorted its surface. With great power of will, he forced himself to relax his hand. The feeling of foreboding he had felt in the underground passageways returned to haunt his mind.

"Where is she? Is she in good health?" he asked more loudly than he intended. "Has anything befallen her?"

Councillor seemed unsure as to where to start as Frodo fidgeted anxiously in front of him. Finally, he seemed to find the words: "She is alive, yes. I know you have parted with her in Mordor, but it is in Orthanc, Saruman's tower, that we have found her. We have taken her to King Theoden's castle in Edoras. She was in good physical health when I last saw her. As for the rest, it is complicated. I think it is best if you see her for yourself, Frodo."

Frodo's heart was drumming so strongly in his ears that he barely heard Councillor add: "There is a cart leaving for Edoras soon. Let us get a ride on it."

* * *

Aragorn was standing like a statue in the cellar-room under Meduseld. The room was dark except for two torches burning silently from their supports on either side of the door behind him. At the far end of the cellar were two cages made of thick, round metal bars. The larger one of the two held the golden wolf.

She had come awake a few hours ago. The first thing she did was to walk in circles inside her prison and sniff at this new and foreign place. She tried clawing and biting at the bars that held her prisoner but seeing that it did her no good, she had ended up returning to the middle of her cell and sitting down on her hindquarters with her ears pricked in Aragorn's direction.

Her eerie eyes truly looked like two pools of blood at the orange glare of the torches. She seemed calm enough, but when Aragorn once moved to wrap his hand around one of the bars, she had bolted towards him like a silent but deadly arrow.

There had not been malevolence in her attack, only the reflex of a frightened and cornered animal. Aragorn tried talking to her, calling to her by her name, but he did not sense any recognition from within her.

Was she truly a beast now? Aragorn did not understand why she was not back to being herself with Saruman's Spell removed. Sometimes, he would see a strange look in her eyes, as though there was a conscience there, but not _her_ conscience. It came and went, flickering like the flame of the torches behind him.

The door to the cell creaked open behind him, casting a rectangle of light on the damp floor. The wolf tensed at the sound and started prowling anxiously behind the bars, snarling at the newcomer.

Aragorn looked back to see King Theoden stepping in. The King stood for a moment in silence, looking at the wolf. The wolf looked back just as intently, her fangs a glint of white in the darkness.

"Are you sure this beast used to be your travelling companion once upon a time? You told me her real form is that of a Halfling, just like the one who has befriended the Ent. But I have trouble seeing it, Lord Aragorn. I have never heard of creatures such as her. To me, it simply looks like a wild wolf. I don't sense intelligence nor human awareness from it."

"I am sure," Aragorn simply replied. "Her eyes used to be silver. Quite unsettling at first glance, but full of life and expression such as I have never seen in any human gaze."

Theoden stayed with him a little bit longer in the cellar; the two men and the wolf all equally silent and grim.

Then, the door opened again and Gamling poked his head in. "The Gondorian refugees are starting to arrive, my liege. Two Halflings accompany them. They seem to be acquainted with Meriadoc."

Theoden clasped his hands behind his back. "How many people are there?"

"Around fifty or sixty, my liege."

Theoden nodded. "Tell my men to lead them to their quarters. And tell the kitchens to prepare food and wine for them. Those poor souls have walked for long miles after witnessing the death of their loved ones and the destruction of their homeland. Make sure they can have one decent meal at last."

Gamling nodded gravely and departed. Theoden let out a weary sigh. "A decent meal…" he repeated, almost to himself. "I wonder how many more meals we will have the luxury to enjoy before we meet our end. We won a battle, but we are losing the war."

Aragorn's face betrayed nothing, but deep down he felt like a drowning man. Hearing about the fall of Gondor and the burning of Minas Tirith had been a heavy blow. And now, only sixty people had come out of the mountains alive out of the thousands that dwelled in the White City. With the fall of Gondor, Rohan had lost its only ally in the war against Sauron. Never had the fate of mankind seemed so bleak.

He tried his best to seek some hope or conjure up some miraculous plan that could make the outcome different, but he could not think of anything. Sauron had the Ring. Sauron had the numbers. They had no numbers, no powerful magic, only soldiers still battered from the battle at Helm's Deep and refugees from Minas Tirith. He could not even count on any help from the wolves now that Allie's mind had been shattered.

"I will go and see to our new guests," Theoden announced after the silence was becoming too heavy, and left quietly.

Once he was left alone, Aragorn kept watch over the wolf for another long moment. Quietly, carefully, he stepped forward again, closing the distance between himself and the cage in a silent gait. When he was at arm's length of the bars, the wolf reacted to his presence by stopping her pacing and letting out a warning growl.

Aragorn pierced the wolf with his own gaze. "Who are you?" he asked with a hint of steel in his voice.

Someone was looking at him through the wolf's eyes. Someone who was not Allie. Or was it simply his imagination? He placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. "You will not win this fight," he threatened piercingly. "She will not let you."

The presence disappeared and the wolf's eyes became inexpressive again as she recoiled further into darkness until she was no more than a silhouette merging into the corner of the cage.

Aragorn released his grip on the hilt and let out a small breath. He was about to leave when the sound of footsteps thundering down towards the cellar reached his ears.

* * *

_3 days later_

Frodo shivered in spite of himself when the coolness of the cellar floor reached his skin from across the tissue of his trousers. He uncrossed his legs and shifted to crouch on the balls of his feet instead.

At the noise, the wolf inside the cage raised her head off her forepaws and looked at him unblinkingly. Frodo looked back quietly from his new position. After a moment, the wolf lowered her head and closed those eerie eyes of hers once more when somnolence won over interest.

Frodo knew that, three days ago, if he had shifted like he did, she would not have remained this impassive. She would probably have bolted to her legs and recoiled to the farthest corner of her cage while snarling at him. She was now no different from a wild wolf freshly plucked from the wilderness, with no glint of human intelligence. She considered anyone who approached her cage to be a menace, even him. That realization had first stung like a thousand needles, but once Frodo forced himself to accept the reality of it, he had felt more ready to deal with this situation.

Councillor's mysterious words had made him fear the worst for Allie, but even he had not expected to see her in this state. He had imagined her physically injured, but never had he thought everything that used to define Allie as a person was now gone, leaving only a wild wolf in her stead that did not recognize anyone, not even him.

He rubbed at his arms, trying to rid them of the cold setting in due to the dampness all around.

He had no true experience taming wild beasts, but he remembered the way Allie used to behave after she had first moved in to Bag End with him, all those years ago. The children of their neighborhood had mocked her and called her a wild child. But Frodo had managed to gain her trust again in spite of the barriers she had built around her heart. He strongly believed he could do the same now. He knew Allie was within that wolf still; all he needed to do was to help her remember.

Already he could see that he had made some progress. After staying with her in the same space for three days now, she had become accustomed to his presence and was no longer alarmed by his sudden movements. It was only a small victory, but it was all Frodo had to keep going.

Various people had come to keep him company over the course of his stay. He had been happy to see Aragorn again, and overjoyed to see Gandalf after he had thought the Wizard dead. He answered Theoden and Aragorn's questions as best he could concerning the war at Minas Tirith. He chatted with Sam and Merry, accepting their words of sympathy at Allie's predicament with simple nods of his head. All of these people, explicitly or implicitly, at some point tried to persuade him to leave for a few moments to get some air or to get some rest, but Frodo simply smiled at them and said he was where he wanted to be.

There was caution in their manner and words when they addressed him, some better concealed than others. His companions could not trust his calm demeanor, for they feared he might lose his mind to grief if he was left alone with the wild wolf for too long.

But Frodo was not going to lose his mind. He had come close to it on the cart ride to Edoras as he mulled over Councillor's words. Councillor had not done him a kindness by ending the conversation there and refusing to say more. Frodo had always known that thoughts issued from imagined fears were always the most dangerous of all, but even if he knew it, he could not stop himself from falling prey to it on that endless cart ride.

However, things had changed once he was able to see her for himself with his own two eyes. Accepting her predicament as the harsh and frightening reality had been the most difficult thing he had ever done, but once he had made that step, a deep calmness and numbness had settled in.

His companions all told him several times to be careful of the wolf, to not let himself think that it was still Allie. Gandalf recounted to him in gruesome details how the wolf had attacked them while being under the Spell of Saruman. Even though the Spell was now lifted, she was still capable of inflicting the same amount of damage if provoked.

However, in spite of Gandalf's tale and Sam's words of caution, where everyone else saw a wild beast or a threat to be contained, Frodo still only saw Allie. Even when she threw herself at her cage when he got too close, even when she bore her fangs at him and snarled like she had never snarled at him before, even when it was clear that she did not recognize him, he still only saw Allie.

Allie who was prisoner in her own body; Allie who was being tormented by demons he could not see.

He could not let her fight this alone. Not when he was finally reunited with her.

When Frodo saw her prowling in her tiny prison, he knew she was just afraid. He could see it in the way her eyes widened at any sudden sound, in the way her ears were plastered against her head, and in the frantic way her bushy tail swiped the floor behind her. If only he could make her see that he was not a threat, then perhaps she would let him in once more.

He tried explaining this to the others, but he got the feeling that no one completely believed him. Perhaps they were right; perhaps he was fooling himself. Merry gloomily reminded him that he had not been present when she had attacked the Company outside Isengard.

"I barely recognized her," Merry had said dejectedly. "She could not hear our voices, Frodo."

But Frodo knew Allie _could_ still hear their voices if only they tried a little harder.

During his long hours with her, he took up the habit of whispering his thoughts out loud to her and to himself. He spoke to her about anything that came to mind, from serious matters such as the war that Sauron was bringing to Middle-earth; to more light-hearted topics as such his favorite cheesecake recipe. Frodo found it hard, albeit impossible, to remember the taste of cheesecake, but curiously he still remembered with vivid detail each single step outlined in Bilbo's recipe.

When he spoke, the wolf kept her eyes closed, but her ears usually perked in his direction. He didn't know how much she understood, but he took comfort in the fact that she was listening.

Tired of crouching, Frodo now slowly stood up on his feet. His tired bones ached and his knees snapped. He sighed, feeling as battered as an old man. He eyed the goblet beside him and found it empty. Swallowing back his thirst, he made a tentative step towards the cage.

The wolf lifted up her head once more at the sound and stared at him, unmoving. Frodo sustained her gaze, noting the thick bloody veils over eyes that would usually have shone silver like moonlight. He felt a sudden pang of longing for his long lost half-moon pendant. If only he still had it, and Allie could see it hanging around his neck, would she be reminded of that long ago promise made between children?

_I won't take mine off if you won't._

The memory of her young and timid voice led to the memory of a dream from some time ago.

"Do you remember your dreams, Allie?" he asked her softly, his voice ringing clear in the damp air of the cellar.

The wolf looked at him, as still as a statue.

"Most folk remember their dreams best when they have just woken up, but that is not the case with me," he pursued. "My dreams always come back to me later, much later, sometimes at a completely unexpected time and place."

Almost unconsciously, he glided closer to her cage. "One of them came back to me just now. Do you want to hear it?" He paused, and then resumed as if he had heard her answer: "It was after I reached Minas Tirith. It is still difficult for me to recall my state of mind at that time. I had just lost you, and I had yielded the Ring to our enemy. I wanted to go back for you and to retake the Ring by some desperate means, but I was powerless. I felt so empty, like nothing mattered any longer. I had given up."

His voice was but a hoarse whisper now. He glided close enough to the cage to grip a bar with his right hand. The wolf stayed immobile, lying on all fours at the center of the cage with her fine muzzle directed towards him.

"That night at Minas Tirith, that is when I had that dream. It was a nightmare at first, truly. I was in a dark place, with a dark well. I had never felt so low as I did in that instant."

The wolf slowly stood up on her legs with her eerie eyes set on his small frame leaning against her cage. Within her reach.

Frodo looked up at her once more through shiny eyes. "I hated what I had become and I was ashamed of how I looked, reflected in the still water of the well. I had become a twisted creature, entirely dependent on the Ring, just like Gollum. The last thing I wanted then was for you to see me like that. But you looked at me, really looked at me, and you still loved me. You told me you would hide that ugly side of me and hold me up so that I can show my strong side to the world."

The wolf was closer now. When had she moved? Up close, the substance covering her eyes looked more like congealed blood than ever. Gandalf's words of warning rang at the back of his mind, but something in the wolf's gaze made him stay where he was.

"I can hear your words so clearly, even now. So perhaps that wasn't a dream after all," he pursued so quietly that his voice was merely above a whisper. "Allie, you have always been there for me when I needed you most. When I woke up from that dream, I knew what I had to do. No matter what obstacles lay ahead, I would find you again. And now I have."

Slowly, he passed his right arm in between the bars and reached out to her. His blue eyes were charged with longing when he said: "Wake up, Allie. Wake up from this nightmare that is making you suffer so. You don't have to be scared any longer, because I am here now. I am here for you. This time, you can lean on me and let me hold you up. Won't you let me?"

Slowly, very slowly, the wolf leaned forward and sniffed his hand. The red eyes were on him again, unblinking, expressionless, dead. But there was also change in the air, a kind of sizzling energy that made the hairs stand at the back of Frodo's neck. For a second of uncertainty, events could have tilted one way or the other. The decision of whether the wolf would bite off his arm or accept his hand hung in that second frozen in time.

And then that second passed.

The wolf did neither.

She turned her muzzle away from his hand and continued advancing until her nose was at an inch from the bars. Frodo found himself staring into two blood-shot eyes. In a far corner of his mind, he thought to himself that she had grown even larger since the last time he had seen her. Now, he had to tilt his face upwards a little in order to sustain her gaze.

"That's it," he murmured softly. "That's my Allie."

The wolf's ears swiveled at the sound of her name. The coat of blood in front of her eyes seemed to thin, and Frodo could now almost make out the black vertical pupils behind the red veil.

His right arm, still stretched between the two bars, slowly shifted until it barely touched the fur of her neck. The wolf vividly turned her head in that direction upon feeling the touch, but her motion was cut short when the top of her head rammed into his outstretched arm. Frodo held his breath as his heart skipped a beat, wondering whether that would destroy everything he had built.

However, the wolf remained in that position, with the top of her head resting against his arm and one of her ears squeezed between her head and his elbow. Without letting himself think about it, Frodo slowly buried his fingers in the fur of her neck. Her fur seeped through his fingers like soft silk.

A shudder ran through the wolf, but she did not move from her position.

Feeling a surge of courage, Frodo plastered his entire body against the cage and placed his other hand on top of her head, in between her small ears. The thick bars of the cage stood between them, cold and unyielding, but Frodo still lost himself in this awkward embrace.

At that moment, the door of the cellar suddenly swung open, creating a large patch of rectangular light on the grey stone of the floor.

"Frodo!" Merry's alarmed voice boomed into the room like thunder.

Frodo jerked in surprise and alarm. Before he could move or speak, he felt the wolf's body tense as all the fur of her back bristled. A second later, a searing pain erupted from his arm.

He gasped when he saw the wolf sinking her fangs into his forearm. A rivulet of blood immediately flowed from his punctured skin and ran down his forearm and hand, staining his white sleeve red.

"Frodo!" Merry screamed again as he ran forward.

Frodo turned around wildly, his blue eyes blazing. "Stop!" he yelled. "She is just scared! Don't come any closer!"

"What are you talking about?" Merry all but shrieked with panic on his face. "She is ripping your arm off!"

Frodo grimaced in pain when the wolf moved her head to look at Merry with her fangs still hooked in the flesh of his arm.

"Allie, it is all right," he panted. "Merry is a friend. You do remember Merry, don't you? He will not harm you. Everything is all right…"

Suddenly, two long arms passed through the bars and circled around the wolf's neck. A second later, her head was being harshly pressed against the bars. Frodo saw Councillor beside him; his teeth were flashing white as he clenched them with the effort of holding Allie in place by the neck.

The wolf yanked her fangs out of Frodo's arm and tried to bite at the Elf instead, but his arms were like a steel collar around her neck, cutting off her breath. She opened her jaw wide as Councillor pulled on her neck with all his strength and banged her head against the bars once more.

The wolf let out a yelp.

Frodo threw himself at the Elf to stop him, but Councillor's brown eyes, usually so placid, were full of fury when they pierced him.

"The waterskin!" he snarled. "Take it from my belt!"

Frodo's eyes zoomed in on the brown waterskin hanging from his waist, and sudden understanding flooded him. He dove under Councillor's wriggling arm and unhooked the waterskin. Snatching the cork open violently, he then approached the struggling wolf.

Councillor saw the hobbit's movements from the corner of his eye, and tightened his hold around her thick neck even more, making her jaw snap open wider in her attempt to breathe. Frodo shoved the waterskin through the bars and started emptying the Ent water into her mouth.

When the flask was empty, Councillor let go of her suddenly and stepped back, panting. The wolf swallowed the water brusquely and then hunched down to retch. She breathed roughly with her tongue hanging out, and then brusquely snarled at all of them from across the bars before staggering to the back of her cage.

Frodo's heart sank as he wondered whether they had done the right thing. Had he burned the fragile bridge of trust he had built with her over the last few days?

Councillor seemed to read his thoughts as he placed a hand on his shoulder. "Once she is a hobbit again, she will be easier to deal with."

Frodo knew he was right, but why did his heart feel this heavy?

A sudden burst of pain recalled his attention to his bleeding arm. He grasped it with his other hand, wincing slightly. Councillor's brown eyes fell on his wound. "Come, that cut needs to be disinfected. You have done all you can for her, and I thank you for that, Frodo. Now all we can do is to wait."

Frodo threw a last glance at the wolf curled in the corner.

"Come!" Merry insisted anxiously as he took his good arm.

Frodo shut his eyes closed painfully, re-opened them and followed after the other two.

* * *

King Theoden eyed the people assembled in Meduseld's throne room. A large wooden table had been set up with long benches on either side. Half-empty wine cups were scattered among the remnants of the food that the servants had brought from the kitchens. The King was sitting at the head of the table. Aragorn was to his immediate right, and Gandalf to his left. Further down, sat Eowyn, Eomer's sister. Facing them, sat Councillor.

Theoden deposited his fork and knife and wiped his mouth with a napkin as he studied the Elf. His smooth features were set in a polished face, as though chiseled from stone. His long brown hair was carefully braided. He was still dressed in the man-made white blouse and black trousers that Theoden had first seen him in. He sat at table with arms crossed, the food and drink untouched in front of him.

Theoden simply could not believe that he had transformed from a wolf. It was inconceivable. He was an Elf in all aspects that he could see. And yet, he had seen with his own two eyes the wolf in the cellar transform into a Halfling, so he knew such transformations were not just the subject of stories and legends.

When Councillor turned his placid brown eyes to him, the King looked away.

"Now that we have dined," he started, "let us discuss the wolf Allie and those of her kin. I have never heard of such people before. She was a threat to be reckoned with when I first met her. I understand that she was under a Spell, but those of you who were there with me on that day will surely understand my concerns. There is no guarantee that her behaviour was entirely due to the Spell. If there is a chance that she will lust for blood again, while remaining under my Hall, my people will be in danger."

"I can assure you that she will do no such thing if she were herself," Councillor replied sternly.

"She still is not herself, even after drinking that water you brought from Fangorn Forest," Theoden retorted.

Councillor fell silent at that.

"She is not herself," Aragorn agreed quietly, "but she is barely a threat in her present state."

There was a knock on the double doors.

"That will be Frodo," Gandalf grumbled after taking a puff from his pipe.

Gamling opened the doors, revealing Frodo's small figure framed at the threshold of the giant doors. There was a thick bandage wrapped around his right forearm. Theoden frowned when he saw that he was not alone. Allie was standing behind him, dressed in a plain black gown that was a bit too big for her. He recognized the gown as belonging to Eowyn, but the sleeves and the bottom had been cut to fit the hobbit's smaller size. She was now standing behind Frodo, with her face half covered by cascading blonde curls.

Frodo met the King's gaze and saw his disapproval. "I brought Allie with me. I did not want to leave her alone in the room," he stated, his blue eyes firm against any potential rebuke.

No one contested her presence.

He tugged on her hand gently when he started forward, and she followed after him more slowly, in small shuffling steps. Frodo led her to where Councillor sat. Once in front of the bench, he carried her up in his arms as though she did not weigh more than a bag of feathers. Then, he put her down onto the bench next to Councillor and sat down beside her.

The eyes of everyone around the table traveled to her. Allie stayed in her position, very still, and looked down at her lap as her hair fell all around her, hiding her face from view. Frodo gently brushed it back and tucked it behind her ear, revealing empty grey eyes in a pale face. Sitting there in her oversized gown, she looked but a young and frail child. It was immediately apparent to everyone at the table that there was no soul behind those eyes.

There was another moment of silence as the assembled people studied her. Frodo looked around tiredly. "I want to know what happened to her. I want to hear everything from the beginning."

This was not what Theoden had intended to discuss, but upon seeing the hobbit's forlorn expression, he did not interrupt Councillor when the latter stood up to answer. "Most of what I am going to say is already known by most of us, but I shall repeat it for your sake, Frodo." His brown eyes turned to the hobbit. "Frodo, I have already told you that it is in Isengard that we have found Allie. Saruman has always been the one interested in our kin. He struck a bargain with Sauron. He sent one of his Uruk-hai servants with Serecor to Mordor under the pretense of aiding Sauron in finding the Ring. But in fact, his real purpose was to get his hands on a wolf Queen and bring her back to Orthanc so that he could perfect his control over the race of wolves."

"How do you know all this?" Frodo wondered.

To his surprise, it was Gandalf who answered: "I have in my possession a log of Saruman's research entries concerning the Blood Ring he has forged." He tapped a finger down on the big book wrapped in an ancient cover of black leather sitting in front of him on the table. "It says here that he attempted to create a device that would enable him to control the wolves by taking over the Blood that exists within them, much in the same fashion as the One Ring controls the other Rings of Power. Why he was so fixated on it I cannot tell. He is wise; even he would not believe that controlling the wolves would give him the power he seeks. Wolves are dangerous and savage, but they are no real adversaries to a large army of Orcs."

Frodo thought back to everything Allie had ever told him about the Blood. "From what I know, the Blood seems like an entity that is separate from the consciousness of the wolves. When she was young, Allie had to go through the Blood Call when she had to choose her Protector. But that decision was not made by her, but by the Blood."

Gandalf nodded in agreement as he took another puff of his pipe. "This log registers the several trials that Saruman has undergone to create Serecor. He managed to get his hands on the original wolf, the mother of all wolves from whom all other wolves descended. He enslaved her and cut off a part of her heart and minced it until it became a mass of blood and grinded tissue. He believed there was magic in that horror, and so he encapsulated it in a golden ring. For some reason, even with part of her heart taken out, the mother did not die. And even better, Saruman realized that he had gained hold over her with the Ring he had created from her own heart."

Gandalf's face was grave when he finished: "By knowledge or by luck, Saruman had taken out the very essence of the mother of wolves and enslaved it in his Ring. With his magic, he submitted the Ring to obey its bearer, whoever it might be."

"After Saruman's demise, my wolves went into Isengard to investigate," Councillor resumed as all eyes turned towards him. "They found a _palantir_, several spell books, as well as that log that is now in your possession, Mithrandir. The wolves went down into the caves, many of which were flooded. But in one of them, they found the corpse of a decapitated wolf chained to the wall. That was probably the mother of wolves that you spoke of. They also found the remnants of the furnace whence Serecor was created."

The members sitting around the table looked at each other grimly.

"What else did you find?" Aragorn inquired with troubled lines around his mouth.

Councillor turned towards the Ranger. "There were signs of a battle inside the chamber where they found the _palantir_. They also found the shattered pieces of Serecor on the floor, but saw no traces of the Blood that it contained. After Saruman cast that loathsome spell on Allie, I believe the Blood from Serecor went inside of her and took over her body when her mind was rendered vulnerable by the Spell. The rest is only speculation, but I believe that when the Blood from Serecor joined with the rest of the mother's heart that Allie ate, something was awakened."

A line formed on Aragorn's brow. "When I was in the cellar with her, I oftentimes felt as though a stranger was looking at me through her eyes."

Frodo looked over at Allie's blank face. He had had the same impression over his stay with her, but he didn't voice it out loud.

The Elf was worried. "The Blood has always been a sleeping consciousness at the back of our minds, but now it has become strong."

Aragorn shook his head. "It was not a permanent presence. It came and went, almost as if…"

"Almost as if Allie is fighting it," Frodo finished quietly.

Everyone looked at him, but no one contradicted him. Frodo's eyes were firm when he returned their gazes. "The Ent water she drank has put the Blood to sleep again for now. It will be a matter of time before she comes back to us. I am confident in this."

Gandalf considered the hobbit for a long time, but Frodo's firmness did not waver.

"Frodo, I have no doubt that she will return, but I worry that there will not be enough time."

Grimness invaded the hobbit's traits. "Yes, I know that Sauron is coming, and soon enough this relative peace will shatter, but…"

His words sizzled out when the Wizard shook his head sadly. "Sauron weighs heavy on all of our minds, but I was not referring to him."

He exchanged a glance with Councillor, and the Elf turned towards the confused hobbit. He touched Allie's chin gently and looked into her unfocused eyes. "There is something you do not yet know, Frodo," he spoke without looking at him.

Frodo seized one of Allie's limp hands resting on her lap, and clenched it in both of his. Suddenly, he was not sure he wanted to hear what the Elf was about to say.

Gently, Councillor seized Allie by the shoulders and turned her body so that she was facing Frodo on the bench. Frodo's eyes went from her pale face to the Elf's sorrowful features without understanding.

"What you see now is no longer her true shape," Councillor finally declared.

It took a couple of minutes for the meaning of those words to sink in. When they did, Frodo's hands turned as cold as the ice that seemed to have replaced the blood coursing through his veins. He clenched her hand tighter to quench down the tremor that ran through him.

Councillor closed his eyes for a second, and then decided to deliver all the news. "After seven days, she will resume her wolf shape. But we will have her drink some more water before then so that she can remain as a hobbit. Even so, her days like this are numbered. There will come a time when the Ent water will no longer work for any of us."

The Elf's voice was full of gentleness and compassion for his plight, but Frodo still felt every word as a sword. He thought the worst had already happened, but this piece of news was the heaviest blow yet. Allie's transformation into a wolf was complete, and he had not been by her side when it happened! The brief future he had hoped to have with her shattered into fine pieces, never to be whole again.

Frodo did not hear Gandalf come, but suddenly the Wizard was by his side, holding onto his shoulders with reassuring hands. "Allie has always been a strong-willed lass," his deep voice resonated behind him. "She will come back to you before the water loses its effect. We have to trust her to win this fight."

Frodo was too stunned to answer.

Eowyn, who had remained silent until now, suddenly spoke up in a voice that rang clear in the Hall: "I think this is quite enough for today. Mr. Baggins, you should bring your companion back to your quarters and get some rest. It is clear to me that she will not be a threat to anyone. And so you have your answer, Uncle."

Theoden looked from Eowyn to Allie, and then nodded curtly.

Frodo slowly lifted his head and met Eowyn's gaze from across the table. He knew she had been the one to bathe and dress Allie when she had turned back into her hobbit self, for no other women were present at the castle. He wanted to express his gratitude, but his tongue felt like dry parchment. He swallowed with difficulty and managed to give her a courteous nod instead.

The walk back to his room on the second floor was but a blur. Sam was waiting for him in the room, anxious as to how the meeting went, but Frodo sent him on his way. He didn't have the will to face anyone right now, no matter how pure their intentions were. As he sat down on his narrow bed, he slowly looked at Allie standing in the middle of the room where he had left her.

The sunlight pouring in from the open window made her hair shimmer, but the light did not reach her distant eyes. She was looking at the wall behind Frodo with the same absent-minded expression she had worn ever since she had resumed her hobbit shape.

"This cannot be happening. This has got to be a nightmare. I will wake up, and none of this will be real," Frodo murmured as he wiped a hand across his worn face, suddenly clinging to his denial with the force of desperation.

A soft wind blew in from the open window, barely making the heavy curtains quiver. However, Allie swayed a bit on her feet, as though she had no more substance than a twig. In two steps, Frodo closed the distance between them and stabilized her by the shoulder.

Allie continued looking at the wall behind him.

He seized her face with both hands and forced her to look at him. Her eyes fixed on him, but saw right through him. He took her by the shoulders and shook her gently. "Allie, look at me," he begged hoarsely. "I know you are in there. I know you can hear me. The Blood is asleep, so why won't you come back to me? Why? What else do I have to do?"

He knocked his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, for suddenly he could no longer bear to see the emptiness in her gaze. In this creature, nothing remained of the fiery lass he had come to know. She was but an empty shell of everything she used to be.

In a mad impulse, he pulled her close and caught her lips with his. He kissed her madly, desperately, hoping to feel a response from her or a sparkle of the desire that such an act would have elicited in her old self.

When he finally pulled back, his cheeks red and his eyes shining with tears, he didn't need to look at her to know that she had not felt it. She could not feel, nor see, nor hear anything anymore.

Back in the Shire, in the days of Frodo's youth, one of the elderly hobbits had rolled down the hill and hit his head. He was unconscious for weeks, and when he finally came to, he had the same blank expression on his face as Allie did right now. He couldn't speak and couldn't recognize anyone. His wife cried for days in grief. Then, she had spent years taking care of him until he quietly died in the night without ever a glimpse of the old him returning.

Was this their fate as well? Allie, always so full of life and passion and fire, reduced to this vegetable state until her days as a hobbit were spent. After she returned permanently to being a wolf, she would leave him without a single recollection of the things they had lived together, as though he had never existed in her world.

At this realization, the firm resolve that Frodo had harbored for all this time suddenly broke like a dam.

"Look at me!" he found himself screaming as he shook her. "For how long do you plan to stay like this? We have no more time! ALLIE!"

Her head bobbed back and forth as her body let itself be handled like a rag doll. A strand of hair fell across her face, covering one eye.

Frodo's scream dissolved into a sob as he suddenly clenched her tight to him, digging his nails into the soft fabric of her night gown. He tightened his arms around her until her breath was pushed out of her lungs in a whoosh. Her knees buckled, but Frodo held her upright in his arms.

The sound of a distant knock reached Frodo from across his mantle of grief. Breathing rapidly, he forced himself to regain some sort of composure. His arms loosened their hold around Allie's frame.

"Who is it?" he managed to ask in a strangled voice.

"Councillor," came the Elf's voice from the other side of the door.

Frodo wiped his eyes on his sleeve. He lied Allie down on the bed and sat beside her with his back to the door. "What is it?" he inquired harshly without turning around.

The Elf entered the room even though Frodo had not given him permission. For a second, the hobbit thought of whirling around and demanding to be left alone, but he remained seated on the bed with his eyes set harshly on the covers.

The Elf paused for a moment at the door, before he closed it and approached the bed on light feet. The hobbit didn't know how much the Elf had heard, but he waited for the usual comforting words to come. Comforting words that meant nothing to him and would change nothing.

However, for long seconds the Elf simply stood behind him in silence. Then, the tissue of his clothes ruffled as he leaned over to put down something on the night table beside the bed. "I did not want to give you this at the meeting, for it is a personal item. My wolves found it in one of the underground tunnels of Isengard. It belongs to Allie," he spoke simply.

Then, just as quietly as he entered, he left.

Through his blurry vision, Frodo suddenly recognized the pale object sitting on the table. He reached out and closed his fingers around the cold stone of her half-moon pendant.

He studied it for a moment in dumbstruck silence. Then, he seized one of her limp hands, inserted the pendant in her palm and closed her hand around it. He rested her fist on her chest and brushed away a few rebellious curls from her face and neck, revealing a nasty looking scar running from the base of her left ear all the way to the base of her neck. The skin of the scar was pink, indicating it had been recent.

Frodo's heart constricted when he remembered how she had gotten it. In his mind's eye, he saw once more the Orc strolling towards him with an eager grimace on his face and a tainted sword in his hand. But then there was a flash of golden fur in front of him and Allie's blood splattered all over his face as she stood between him and the blade. He could still recall how thick and salty her blood had tasted in his mouth.

She had saved his life that day with no regards to her own. She had always been like that.

"Forgive me, I was wrong to despair," he told her hoarsely as he gently brushed her scar with his finger.

Allie's gray eyes remained set onto the nondescript ceiling stretched above them.

Frodo took in a deep and steadying breath and locked away his fears once more. "I will not stop trying, Allie. I will never give up on you."

He leaned down and kissed her on the lips once more, this time full of aching gentleness.

He then lied down beside her and placed her head over his outstretched arm to hold her close. He leaned his forehead against the side of her head and breathed in the lavender soap that Eowyn had used to wash her body and hair. He watched as her chest rose and fell slowly, a regular rhythm in a world that had gone mad.

Soon, the warmth from her body seeped through her night gown and enveloped him. In spite of his grief, slumber edged ever closer to his mind. He felt so tired that his limbs seemed made of lead. He couldn't remember the last time he had had a good night's sleep.

Allie's familiar shape huddled against him was like a balm of solace. Even though the sun was still high in the sky, he drifted into a state of comatose slumber.

* * *

There was a voice calling out to her, and she stirred herself. It was a voice that she could not ignore. The pieces of her flew back together to form a more compact entity, and for the first time in a long time, a coherent thought formed within her:

_I cannot be here_

Someone was still singing in the white space around her. There were no words that she could discern, only an endless melody that spoke of regret and loneliness.

Images floated in front of her from the depths of the white space. A golden wolf beheading a Wizard while falling down a tower. A golden wolf dragging a screaming man into the water. A golden wolf attacking a company on horse. A golden wolf in a cage. A golden wolf biting on someone's arm.

Sick dread rose within her.

_It is too late to go back to being human again._

The white spaces around her darkened until they became pitch black.

The voice was calling to her again. She almost recognized who it belonged to.

"I'm sorry," she thought. "I promised you I would not kill again, but I think I broke that promise. Will you ever forgive me?"

Sadness mingled with fury arose within her. "I can't be here. I want to apologize to you in person. I owe you that."

The sad song around her continued. She knew that as long as the song continued, she would not leave this place. She floated around in the darkness, trying to find the singer. She searched for a long time before she found him. When he saw her, he grew silent and retreated.

She was going to give him pursuit when a window opened in front of her. When she looked out from it, she saw a long wooden table stretched out in front of her, with remnants of food and drinks scattered about. In front of her sat a woman dressed in a white dress. Her light blonde hair framed a freckled face from where peeked a set of pale green eyes. She sensed more people sitting around the table, but she could not turn her head to see who they were.

Something on the table caught her attention and she forced her hand to reach out and take it. The effort it cost her was terrible. Once she took what she sought, the window closed and darkness came back once more.

The song had resumed.

"Shut up," she begged feebly.

The song seemed almost mocking as it continued, its melody going up and down, weaving and spinning the darkness that made up her prison.

Later, but how much later she could not tell, a star fell down in front of her, cutting brightly across the darkness and leaving a trail of light after itself. She looked at it in awe, for it wasn't a star, but one half of a moon. It landed on its curvy side and there rocked back and forth like a crib.

"_The love you bear for the Ring-bearer, always remember it. It shall pull you back to the light,"_ a woman's words drifted out from the moon-crib, seeming to come from far away in the past.

The Ring-bearer? What was a Ring-bearer?

Memories sizzled at the edge of her mind. She thought hard as more pieces of herself came flying back to adhere to her consciousness.

A warm hand, a gentle voice, a pair of stunning blue eyes filled with infinite tenderness.

A face slowly emerged around those eyes as though it was being drawn by a colorful pencil. The voice that accompanied the face called out a name.

"Allie," it said. "Allie!" it repeated.

* * *

When Frodo woke up next, it was pitch dark outside. The window was still open and a chilly breeze made the curtains flap noisily. But that had not been what had awakened him.

Still groggy from sleep, he touched the bed beside him and found it empty.

Allie was gone. She had never moved by herself before!

He jerked up into a sitting position and kicked the blankets away as he scanned his surroundings, suddenly very alert. The room was plunged in absolute darkness. Outside, thunder clouds had gathered, masking all starlight and moonlight.

The curtains flapped again, and he suddenly caught motion near the window.

"Allie?" he called out as he blindly touched his feet to the cold floor and stood up by the bed.

The motion by the window continued. Frodo perked up his ears and thought he distinguished a muffled sound, followed by the dripping of water onto the ground. A sudden chill travelled through his spine, making his hair stand on edge.

"Allie? Is that you?" he called again uncertainly as he stretched out his arms in front of him and stumbled towards the window.

His foot hit the corner of the night table and he cursed under his breath. The collision made the candle roll off the table and fall to the floor. Frodo crouched down and fondled along the ground until his fingers found it again. He stood back up and felt for the box of matches on the table.

Having found it, he lit up the candle as quickly as he could, and then lifted up the light towards the window.

His eyes widened when he saw a shimmer of blonde hair. Allie was hunched over against the windowsill with her back to him. Her night gown was open and half of it had fallen off her, revealing a naked shoulder.

Frodo's first thought was that she had finally regained consciousness, but then a dark voice inside of him warned him to be cautious.

Allie was doing something, and all her attention was focused on her task.

"Allie?" Frodo ventured again as he approached.

This time, Allie stopped what she was doing and froze. Slowly, she turned towards him. The light of the candle revealed dark stains all over the front of her night gown. Frodo let out a scream and almost dropped his candle.

Allie was gripping a small knife in her right hand and was using it to slice at her left wrist. Blood was spurting out of the injury like a dark river, staining her night gown and the floor beneath her feet. There was a hint of steel in her eyes, and harsh lines had formed around her mouth, made even harsher by the light of the candle.

"Allie! What are you doing?!" Frodo slammed the candle down on the table and rushed towards her to take the knife away from her. In his frenzy, he wondered when and where she had gotten her hands on such a thing. It must have been at the meeting with King Theoden earlier, but he had not noticed her taking it.

Seeing his approach, Allie stepped back brusquely and clutched the tainted knife to her chest. "Get out!" she grumbled deep in her throat.

Frodo froze at the sound of her voice. Had she come to? In front of his horrified eyes, she swung her sliced wrist in a large circle, making blood fly everywhere. "Get out! Get out!" she screamed again.

All rational thought left Frodo then. "No!" he shouted. "I'm not going anywhere! Stop this madness!"

In two steps he was next to her. He took hold of the knife and yanked it out of her weak grasp. Allie moaned. She swung her sliced wrist again, but Frodo caught it and brought it back forcefully between their two bodies. He was stunned at how easily he overpowered her.

Allie screamed shrilly and started thrashing.

"No," she moaned. "No. No. No."

"Allie! Please!" Frodo pleaded as he tried to contain her.

The door to their room was thrown open brusquely as Councillor strode in. His eyes narrowed at the sight unfolding in front of him, and his lips pulled back in a snarl at the strong scent of blood drifting out. He assessed the situation quickly and then marched to restrain Allie in his arms.

Allie started screaming in earnest at being so thoroughly immobilized. "GET OUT! GET OUT!" she screeched as she hit the Elf with her injured wrist.

"She was hurting herself!" Frodo managed to get the words out in a strangled voice. "Councillor, what is happening to her?"

Before the Elf could answer, sounds of footsteps arose in the corridor outside the room, and soon Sam appeared, followed by Gandalf.

"What is happening?" Sam cried out in anguish.

Gandalf pushed him aside and took support on his staff as he swiftly marched towards the struggling girl held between Councillor and Frodo.

"Get out!" she half-moaned and half-shouted, her forces weakening.

Gandalf narrowed his eyes at the clumsy and yet deep cuts on her wrist. The flow of blood was slowing down already, forming a thickening clot. A glint of recognition came into the Wizard's eyes. "Councillor!" he roared. "Hold out her left wrist!"

The Elf avoided one of Allie's kicks and closed his bigger hand on her left forearm. Then, he presented the gushy wound towards the Wizard.

"What are you doing?" Frodo screamed.

Without answering, Gandalf directed his staff towards the wound, closed his eyes and started murmuring words under his beard. His white robes were soon glowing faintly in the dark, illuminating the blemish faces of all of the spectators.

Allie suddenly cried out in pain.

The cuts on her wrist had started bleeding again. But instead of a fine river of blood, it now looked like a thick, coagulated filament. Gandalf kept murmuring low words with his staff directed towards her. Slowly, he lifted his other hand and opened up his palm.

The thick filament of blood twisted like a worm as it was being pulled out of her wrist.

Finally, it fell to the ground, measuring almost a meter long, and coiled on itself like a snake, before it merged together to become a puddle of red.

"Quick! Is there a container?" Gandalf demanded.

Everyone was still too flabbergasted to respond, but Frodo leapt to the night table, took up a flask and emptied its contents onto the floor before throwing it to Gandalf. The Wizard caught it and angled it towards the puddle of blood on the floor.

Quick as a snake, he then slammed down the edge of his staff down into the puddle of red. An unmistakable shiver ran through the Blood before it reared its head and leapt inside the flask. Gandalf ran to the night table, picked up the cork and swiftly sealed off the flask with it.

Outside, there was a flash of lightning, followed by distant thunder. When it died down, all was quiet in the room except for the panting of the several stunned people present.

In Councillor's arms, Allie had fallen silent.

Frodo slowly staggered towards her as though he were drunk, wondering what her stillness meant. Before he could succumb to his anguish, she slowly lifted her head to look at him straight.

The light of the candle was partly reflected in her frightened eyes. She blinked once at the sight of him.

"Frodo?" she called out faintly.

Frodo felt his world coming undone in his relief. "Allie?" he ventured just as faintly.

Lightning struck again outside the window, and when the darkness had come back, Allie was suddenly in his arms. He didn't remember whether he had run to her, or she had run to him, or how their bodies had collided together. All he remembered was holding her tight against his beating heart and feeling her arms hold him back. Her grip was weak, and her hands kept slipping until she managed to anchor her fingers in the tissue of his shirt, but she was conscious again! And holding him of her own will!

She was breathing fast by his ear, as though she had just run a marathon. Her skin was feverish where it touched his. She looked up at his face and suddenly started shivering uncontrollably.

"Thank you for coming back," she stammered the words as though she were racing against time, as though if she didn't say them now, she never would get the chance to do so again. "I promise you that I will not kill anyone again. I will not disappoint you again. I can change. I swear! So, don't walk away! You don't have to love me." She clung to his shirt desperately, her grey eyes watery and scared. "Just don't say goodbye. Don't leave me alone in the darkness. Please, Frodo!"

Frodo stared at her in distress and incomprehension and slowly shook his head as he brushed his thumbs across her wet cheeks. "Hush, Allie. I love you. I love you more than anything else in this world!"

Allie searched his eyes overflowing with raw rapture, and her chin started trembling as a stuffy kind of pain expanded in her chest. "Is that really the truth?"

Frodo hugged her small frame to him once more, burying his tormented face in her hair. "How can you doubt it? You are everything to me. I can never walk away from you. Never! I cannot imagine what terrible things you have been through, but I am here now, and I will never let you get hurt like this again. I swear it, my love."

At these words that she had yearned to hear after all this time spent in darkness, Allie pressed her face against his chest as harsh, loud sobs wrecked her entire body. Frodo felt warm tears trickling down his own cheeks as he rocked her and whispered comforting words in her ear.

Outside, thunder rolled again and then a black rain crashed down to the earth below in an angry cacophony, covering the loud sobbing coming from Allie.

Councillor knelt beside them and embraced them both, relief and heartbreak making his eyes shine in the dark. Then, he was joined in by Sam, who placed a hand on Allie's shoulder as he struggled to hold back his tears. "You are back, Allie. You are back amongst us! May the Valar be blessed!"

The four of them stayed together like this for a long time as the storm raged outside and lightning flashed in by intervals.

When Allie's sobs weakened and became small sniffles instead, she wearily lifted her head from Frodo's shoulder and met Sam's compassionate gaze.

"Sam," she called in a broken voice as she squeezed his hand. Sam squeezed back as he managed a smile.

Then, she turned towards Councillor. Her gray eyes filled with wonder as she recognized him right away, even though she had never seen him in this shape before. She touched a finger to his face. "Councillor," she murmured shakily, her gray eyes happy in spite of the tears she was shedding.

The Elf covered her small hand with his bigger one, and his polished features gave way to raw emotion. "Welcome back, my Queen."

Finally, Allie turned back to Frodo once more and studied his features by the light of the candle. Frodo looked back just as intently, barely able to repress his emotions.

"Frodo," she whispered as she placed a hand against his chest. "I heard your voice, Frodo."

Frodo smiled fondly down at her. "I knew you would."

She felt warmed by his smile. "I heard your voice. It was like a beacon."

Frodo wrapped his arms around her and held her against his heart. She closed her eyes and melted into his embrace. She was tired already; so tired from crying and speaking. But she was afraid to rest. What if the darkness came back to claim her?

But then she felt Frodo's arms around her, and Frodo's heart beating so earnestly in his chest. He said he loved her.

She allowed herself to relax. She was fine now. She was safe.

* * *

Hey guyyyys! This chapter was not easy to write at all. I had to change some passages a billion times. But here it is finally! Let me know what you think! Any comments are always greatly appreciated! :)

**Amore2210LovesFanfic:** Bad news referred to Allie's mind going blank, but all bad things come to an end also! :) Well, that's good because I also love writing longer chapters so that I can show a proper start and finish with the story arc within the chapter. Thanks for the review! :D

**Uchiha no Kaori:** Yes, this must have been the chapter you were waiting for? They are together, and Frodo didn't give up on her till the end! It was a powerful and fun chapter to write for me, and I hope you enjoyed it as well. More moments to come later! Thanks for the review! :)

**allonsylotr:** Wow! Thank you so very much for your comment, made my day when I read it! :D Yes, it's already a long story so I imagine it took you a while to catch up! I really did take my time building up their relationship, because I've always enjoyed writing about two people's beginning. There are just so many opportunities for cute moments, but also poignant moments when they realize their feelings for each other. I'm happy to hear you got absorbed into the story in general! Yes, the wolf story is indeed intricate and it takes some serious pondering to weave all the threads together over the course of the chapters, but that's also a challenge that I enjoy when I make up a story. In any case, I'm so glad the story I created could resonate with you, and I do hope you will stay with me till the end! Sometimes it takes a little longer for a new update, but I am always trying my best to write them as fast as I can without the quality dropping! Thank you again!

** sgtpepper1967:** Thanks for the comment! :) Chapter has been updated!

**ZabuzasGirl:** lol, well it wasn't immediately, but here is the new update! :) Thanks for the comment!


	50. Of Lambskins and Wool

**Of Lambskins and Wool**

Frodo slowly emerged from a dreamless slumber. He drifted for a second in that state between sleep and wakefulness, floating within a bubble of well-being formed of soft duvet and morning sunlight. A bird chirped from the open window and another soon answered its call. Their music was a string pulling his mind towards the side of reality.

Frodo's eyes fluttered open and he shifted soundlessly under the covers. On the wall opposite the bed, a painting of two white mounts galloping through a field basking in sunset slowly came into focus. However, something else, something much more captivating than that sunset painting, made him open his eyes all the way.

In front of the painting and by the window, Allie sat curled up on a chair with her chin resting on knees that she had drawn to her chest. Wild curls cascaded down her shoulders and folded legs. She was lost in contemplation of the plains of Rohan extending into the distance outside the window.

She wore for only garment an over-sized shirt that almost descended to her knees. Frodo had lent it to her the night before to replace her blood-stained nightgown. The shirt used to be white when he had left the Shire (it had been a new shirt he had had especially made for Bilbo's birthday), but the toll of his journey had yellowed and shredded it in parts. Allie had rolled up the puffy sleeves to her elbows on both sides, revealing the white bandages that Councillor had wrapped around her left wrist the night before prior to leaving them to rest.

He felt strangely touched at the sight of her wearing his shirt, perhaps because he had come so close to losing her. But now she was here again, sitting in front of him with sunlight in her hair, and he felt an intense serenity at the knowledge that she would now respond if he called out her name.

Finally, Allie must have sensed his gaze on her, for her eyes glided to him and took in the sight of him lying on his side with one arm folded under his head. A small smile lifted up the corners of her mouth. Without a word, she unfurled her legs from beneath her and went to him.

When she carefully sat on the edge of the mattress, her weight barely made it dip. Frodo was mystified at how thin she had become, seemingly as fragile as though made of paper. He wondered when was the last time she had eaten any food or had had a good restorative sleep.

She was looking at him uncertainly now, as though she was aware how she must seem to him. Seeing that, Frodo quickly pulled himself up into a sitting position beside her.

"Good morning," he greeted with a smile.

Her features relaxed a little. "Good morning."

"How are you feeling? Did you get any sleep?"

She shook her head. "I feel like I have had enough sleep for an entire lifetime."

Frodo arched an eyebrow. "Except that you weren't really sleeping. You need to rest, Allie. Perhaps it will come easier after we have some breakfast."

She smiled at his concern. "Look at you, being so motherly this early in the morning." She tried shoving him in the arm, but her punch lacked its usual vigor.

Frodo caught her hand. "Allie, I am serious. You have been through an ordeal that I can't begin to imagine and you have also lost a lot of blood. Your body needs to recover, and for that to happen you need to sleep."

His eyes fell on her bandages. "Does it still hurt?"

Allie clutched her left wrist to her chest and looked away. "It still throbs a little, but nothing that I can't handle."

Frodo pulled her close by the head and deposited a light kiss on her temple. "It is still early," he murmured against her hair, "try to get some sleep. I will right here. You don't need to worry."

Allie pulled away from him with a stiff shake of her head. "But the sun is already up in the sky! Now that I'm finally back to being myself, there are so many things I need to do! I must speak to Councillor and Gandalf. That was Gandalf last night, wasn't it?"

Frodo slowly nodded. "But Allie..."

"I should have known that Gandalf would never perish so easily!" she cut him off as she played with the hem of his shirt. "I'm glad that he's here! Now more than ever, we will need his wisdom and advice. And I suppose I should pay my respects to King Theoden as well. If I'm not mistaken, we are currently in Meduseld castle…"

"Allie!" Frodo interrupted, more firmly this time. "There will time for all this later. You are exhausted; I can see it in your eyes. It's also everyone's wish that you regain your strength before you start worrying about these things!"

The firmness in his blue eyes told her that she would have to go through him first if she intended to carry through with being stubborn.

Frodo sighed when he saw her shoulders hunching slightly. He sensed that she was not yet fully back to the hobbit he knew. She had erected a wall between them, one that he felt quite clearly every time he touched her, and he didn't understand it.

"But all right," he conceded when he saw her crestfallen face. "No more sleeping for now."

Keeping her head bowed, she murmured: "I'm sorry for putting you through all this, Frodo. I know... how hard it must have been for you."

"I don't remember any of that anymore," he tried to assure her. "I'm just glad that you have come back to me."

She bit her lip.

"Have I really? Every time that I close my eyes, there is this darkness that surrounds me. If I keep my eyes closed for too long, I find myself falling." Her hands clenched around the blankets. "I find myself falling back into that place of nothingness where I don't even remember who I am. And then, I start hearing voices again. Everyone's voices. Telling me… things… telling me…" She shook her head violently, as though she had not meant to start that topic.

Frodo was still for a moment, and then he simply reached out for her hand.

At his touch, she tensed and shied away a little. Very softly, almost in spite of herself, she continued with her eyes downcast: "And these voices have hands. They touch me and crawl on my skin like so many spiders. They are relentless and I can never escape them!"

At these words, Frodo slowly removed his hand from on top of hers, troubled. She looked up at him, but her eyes seemed not to see him. "And do you know what their voices tell me, Frodo? They say that I killed him. They say his blood flooded my mouth. It tasted bitter, like poison. But a part of me _liked_ it. Yearned for it. I sank my fangs in his flesh and I dragged him down. He was screaming… even when he was in the water, he kept screaming. Bubbles kept flowing out of his struggling mouth. He was fighting me, but his strength soon declined. His arms… those arms that flapped in the water so feverishly a minute ago gradually grew still and then floated like tentacles in the water…"

She paused suddenly when Frodo seized her by the chin and tilted her face up to force her to meet his eyes full of worry. She blinked slowly, and then her eyes gained focus. With focus came horror.

She had not meant to say all that! What had possessed her? She did not want him to think that she was more broken than she must already appear to him. She wanted all of this to go away; why wouldn't these things go away even though she was in control of herself again? Suddenly, she wanted to be left alone.

"Snap out of it, Allie!" Frodo stated. The loudness of his voice startled her out of her thoughts.

He let go of her chin when she shakily met his angry eyes. "Those things are gone now," he said. "They can do nothing to you if you don't give them power to take over your mind. There are no voices here and no hands either, except for yours and mine."

He lifted his hand with his palm facing her.

Allie's eyes slowly glided down to it, almost stunned.

"This is it, Allie," Frodo told her firmly but gently. "There is nothing to be afraid of here."

Slowly, Allie lifted her own hand and hesitantly brushed her fingers against the palm of his hand. It was warm. She pressed her palm to his. This was Frodo's hand; a hand she knew so well.

She felt ashamed all of a sudden. This was not the hand of the Spell but that of the person she loved most.

Frodo gently interlaced his fingers with hers. "See? It doesn't bite."

She wiped at her eyes with her other hand and then shook her head deprecatingly. "I'm sorry, Frodo. I know I'm acting foolish."

"No," he retorted softly, "you are still fighting off the demons that Saruman put in you. I wish I could get rid of all that haunts you, Allie, but I can't. Only you can do that, so you have to be strong, now more than ever."

She studied with a sudden startle. In the time that they had been apart, he had changed. Frodo had never been one to allow her to wallow in self-pity, but now more than ever he had become a rock she could hold on to in this storm of events.

A warm blanket of safety enveloped her entire being and for the first time since she awoke, she had the assurance that she would be all right.

A sincere smile lit up her features as she squeezed his hand. "Well, I suppose that you are right." Her smiled turned impish. "Although becoming stronger would come easier if I could sleep. In truth, my thoughts were not the only reason why I couldn't sleep last night."

He shuffled out of bed and sat on the edge of the mattress beside her. "What else is there?" he asked.

She considered his serious expression and said, "Well, that had to be you snoring away beside me."

At this, Frodo deadpanned and blinked. "What? I don't snore!"

She shook her head indulgently. "So they all say."

"But I don't!" he retorted firmly. "No one's ever told me that! In fact, I'm known to be a peaceful sleeper!"

She arched her eyebrows and looked at him in a "if you say so" way.

Feeling flustered, he seized her by the shoulders and stated intently: "If I really did so last night, it must be because I was tired. Look, I have never told you this, but once, I fell asleep under a bundle of blankets on the couch by the hearth back in Bag End. My Uncle walked in the next morning and sat on the other couch to read the newspaper without noticing me. That's how quiet of a sleeper I am! When I woke up and stirred an hour later, he was so startled he spilled tea all over himself."

During his entire tirade, she had to bite her lip hard not to stop the laughter, but when he was finally done, she gave up the fight. At first, Frodo thought she was laughing because of his story, but then he realized she was really laughing at him.

His eyes narrowed in furious understanding. "You brat! You made everything up, didn't you?"

At this, she laughed harder than ever. Frodo threw the blanket at her in annoyance, but deep inside he was relieved. "You must truly be fine if you have the energy for such pranks!"

"Sorry…" she managed to say between two bouts of laughter. "But your expression… you should have seen it… you are always like this!"

"Well, sorry for being naïve," Frodo threw at her as he stood up from the bed and started donning his armor, which was the only piece of garment he could wear outside.

Allie let herself fall on her side as she watched him, giggling at how endearing he looked when he was flustered. She never understood how he could go from the reliable rock in her life to a such an innocent lad from one moment to the next. She supposed that was why she loved him.

"What is that thing you are wearing?" she asked as watched him dress.

Frodo turned around to show off the White Tree on the breastplate. "An armor for a guard of the citadel," he announced, not without some pride. "Along with Sam, we must be the first hobbits to wear such attires in the entire history of the world. That's quite something, isn't it?"

A dreamy look came over Allie's eyes. He was right. How far from home had they come? She watched him as he combed a hand through his dark curls. He truly looked handsome in his armor; the gold and black colors made his blue eyes stand out more than usual. There were lines on his face that she had never seen before, and even though his eyes were as kind as ever, there was a new glint of steel behind the kindness.

Frodo reached over his left shoulder with his right arm to adjust a piece of armor, but winced when his bandaged forearm rubbed against the breastplate.

At that sight, Allie's new-found joy was dimmed.

"It's the only piece of clothing I have left that I can wear outside," Frodo was saying as he bent down to readjust his trousers. "We will need to find ourselves some suitable garments when we have the chance. Perhaps we will find some in Edoras."

When he looked up once more, Allie lifted up the blanket to cover her face.

"What are you doing under the covers?"

"Are you going somewhere?" she asked instead as she pulled up the blanket higher.

"I'm famished," Frodo threw at her as though she were responsible. "Your pranks are too much for me to handle with an empty stomach. I'm going to go get some breakfast for the both of us, so wait for me here. And come out from under there before you faint from lack of air!"

When she heard the door close after him, she slowly crawled out from under the covers. Suddenly, she really was suffocating as she heaved and kicked the blankets away. Then, she stayed on her back with the covers wound around her legs, and stared up at the nondescript ceiling.

There seemed to be a rock embedded in her chest, and it hurt.

Seeing that bandage around his forearm hurt.

She could try to forget the way she had killed Grima or the way that she had attacked her allies, but there was no way she could forget hurting him. She would not allow herself to forget.

"Let this be a warning," she muttered into the empty room. "A warning to myself."

And let the blurry memories of what she had done when she was not in control serve as a warning as well. These memories were coming back more and more, like the wisps of a bad nightmare that lingered even after one had awoken. Except that these memories, they were not from nightmares, but from reality. Those things had really happened.

She still remembered how long the night had seemed when she was just lying beside Frodo with her eyes wide open in the dark. The night had been impenetrable, and his traits had been but a blur of grey amidst the blackness, but she had felt comforted by the lack of detail of his face. For years, even when she was in hobbit form, her five senses had been abnormally enhanced. However, ever since she drank the Ent water and put the Blood completely to sleep, she was but a normal hobbit again in every way. The fact that she couldn't see him clearly in the dark nor smell his characteristic smell had been soothing in their own way. She wasn't sure she wanted the wolf part of her to ever come back, especially not after knowing that being a wolf was all she could ever be. She wondered whether he already knew, and then banished the thought. It was too painful to consider in the dark of night. Perhaps it would be easier in the light of morning.

But it had not been easier in the morning. When the light of dawn had slowly crept along the floorboards and had cast its light on Frodo's sleeping frame, she had seen the bandage around his right forearm for the first time. In a red flash, the memory of her fangs sinking into his flesh danced in front of her eyes, and she suddenly felt as if she were going to be ill.

She had embraced the wolf side of her for many years, but for the first time in a long time, she wished she had never encountered the flame-colored wolf on that rainy day in the Shire.

Now, as she lay on the bed among the blankets in disorder, she rested her forearm over her eyes and bit her lip. How many days until the effects of the Ent water were to disappear? This was already her third day as a hobbit, and so another four remained before she had to drink from it again. And then how many days after that?

She suddenly admonished herself for letting her mind wander to these dark thoughts again. She forced herself to recall Frodo's voice reminding her to be strong.

"I have to pull myself together," she murmured out loud.

She didn't know why it was so hard. After all she had gone through since she was child; after being imprisoned in that closet by her father; after burning down the barn; after being bitten by a wolf; after being driven out of the Shire... after all of those things she had always managed to pull herself together. And yet why was this particular episode so hard to get over?

_Because you are now aware of the darkness that resides within_, the voices whispered. _Because you let it out once, and you want to let it out again._

She shut her eyes closed. "Shut up."

Outside the room and unbeknownst to Allie, Frodo pushed away from the door to their room with clenched fists. He knew she had been pretending to be cheerful for his sake. Hurt and misery rose within him when he realized he had no idea how to ease her pain or how to erase what the Spell and the Blood had done to her.

* * *

Allie swallowed the morsel of meat with difficulty and then quickly washed it down with a gulp of water. She didn't remember the last time she had eaten anything, so by rights she should have been famished, but her stomach seemed to have knotted up inside her abdomen. She looked down at the piece of pork floating in brown sauce in her plate, and put down her knife and fork.

All around the table, everyone else was still eating and conversing in quiet murmurs that gently echoed off the tapestries hung on the walls of the main Hall. Assembled around the table sat all sorts of people of importance, some familiar to her, others not.

To her right sat Frodo and Councillor, and to her left Merry and Sam. From across the table sat Aragorn and Eomer. Theoden was at the end of the table from where he had a view of all the folk in his Hall. To his right sat Gandalf the White whose robes were resplendent even in the gloom of the castle. The Wizard caught Allie's eyes and he gave her a quick wink over the rim of his goblet.

Merry and Sam were eating the food heartily from beside her and she felt a bit more light-hearted at the sight of their appetite. She had been absolutely delighted when Merry had come to visit her earlier that morning. He had been devastated at not having been there for her the night that Gandalf had pulled the Blood out of her, but his room had been in a different hall, and he had not heard a thing as he slept through the night.

Allie had hugged him tight to her heart for a long time, before pulling away to look at his broad smile and vivacious brown eyes with nostalgia. There had been nights and days when she had thought to never see that smile again.

When everyone was done eating, servants came and took away the dishes. More wine was brought forth and poured into goblets. Slowly, the sounds of conversation died down as everyone turned expectant eyes towards the King of Rohan.

Theoden's stern gaze travelled around the table, stopping on each of the solemn faces staring back at him.

"Now that our hunger and thirst have been satiated, let us proceed to important matters. I have mustered all of you here for one simple reason. We need to decide what to do with regards to Sauron's coming, for coming he will be, and sooner than any of us may foresee."

Gandalf took out his pipe and proceeded to light it up.

Aragorn exchanged a quick look with Legolas before standing up. "We do not have enough man power to fight against Sauron's army and come out victorious," he stated calmly. "We have two thousand Rohirrim on our side, survivors of the battle at Helm's Deep. Since Gondor has fallen, no additional help will come from the race of Men. In these times of need, we have no choice but to appeal to the other races of Middle-earth. We have all had our differences in the past, but if we do not come together in these times of need in order to vanquish evil once and for all, never will we have that chance again, for Middle-earth as we know it will be no more."

Theoden eyed Gamling, who stepped forward and unfolded a long parchment. "I have already sent several riders to make haste across the Riddermark and summon every able-bodied man to Edoras. Many have already arrived and are setting camp in the Eastfold. Gambold has reported 500 men from the Westfold and 300 from Fenmarch."

"Any riders from Snowbourn?" Eomer inquired from his place beside Aragorn.

Gamling shook his head. "No word from them yet, my Lord."

Eomer furrowed his brow, displeased. "Then send other riders. Remind them it will be considered treason not to respect our allegiance in these desperate times."

Gamling bowed. "Yes, my Lord."

Theoden saw Aragorn's dejected expression and rested a hand on his forearm. "More will come."

"Even so," Aragorn countered. "Six thousand spears at most. It will not be enough."

Legolas stood up beside Aragorn. "I have sent urgent missives to Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel, as well as to my Lord father, Lord Thranduil of Mirkwood. However, there is little hope of help coming from my homeland. Evil forces have been at work in our woods even before I have left for my journey. My father is not in any position to send away his warriors."

Theoden sighed. "And Lady Galadriel has helped us once already at a great cost. We cannot ask anymore of her."

Aragorn's gaze darkened at the memory of Haldir's death.

"Do you mean that something has happened to Haldir?" Allie interrupted.

The look that Aragorn gave her was clear enough as answer. She balled her hands into fists as a look of pain crossed her face. Frodo was equally stunned by the news, and looked down at the table in misery.

Gimli gulped down some beer and slammed down the cup hollowly on the table. "Lady Galadriel might surprise you. She is not only fair, but the wisest of the wise. She knows how dire this situation is for all of Middle-earth. Doing nothing is no longer an option for any of us!"

Legolas slowly shook his head. "Alas, my friend, I am afraid the Elves do not see these events as would mere mortals. The time for our kind has all but passed. My people have no obligation to stay on these shores to fight a losing battle. Many have already taken the ships to the Undying Lands, never to return again. Even as we speak, the forests are falling silent where once there was music and laughter. Sauron's return to power will only precipitate the departure of those few who still remain."

Gimli's face had gradually turned crimson with each of Legolas' words. "Cowards!" he finally exclaimed. "They will abandon us all in our time of greatest need? They have been amongst the first people to set foot on this land, and now that danger abides, they will desert it like frightened pups?"

Legolas did not take offense, but merely looked at him sadly. "I have sent the missives. The rest is up to their recipients."

"And what about the Dwarves, Master Gimli?" Eomer retorted. "Will any help come from them?"

Gimli's brows furrowed darkly. "They would if they could, but they are too far away to help. By the time a rider carries the news to Erebor, we will already be ashes under Sauron's boot."

"One thousand Dwarves are already on their way from the Lonely Mountain," Gandalf spoke up from amidst a cloud of smoke.

Stunned silence greeted his words.

"How?" Gimli erupted. "How is this possible?"

Gandalf smiled enigmatically. "I have asked Gwaihir the Windlord to bring them the news of our dire situation. They have responded more favorably than I could have ever hoped."

While Gimli was stunned speechless by this news, Merry leapt to his feet in barely contained excitement. "Will the Eagles help us, Gandalf? Will they fight alongside us like they once did for Bilbo and the Dwarves?"

"I cannot answer for Gwaihir, young hobbit. They are creatures with their own wills. The Eagles now know of our plight. Whether they decide to assist us is a decision they will have to make for themselves."

"But!" Merry protested. "Our forces would be much stronger with their support! Is there no way to persuade them?"

Eomer rubbed his temples tiredly. "Eagles and Dwarves," he began. "They cannot be relied upon. The former are flimsy creatures, and the latter have only just set out from Erebor. There is no guarantee that they will reach us in time."

Gimli shot him a dark glare. "Do not underestimate the endurance of Dwarves, Master Eomer. We can walk for twenty days and twenty nights without rest."

Eomer did not comment upon that, but his expression remained doubtful.

"My wolves will help," Allie finally offered into the silence that ensued. "We are only three hundred, perhaps even less now that some have perished in the battle of Minas Tirith, but the damage we can inflict should not be underestimated."

Theoden looked at her piercingly, still debating whether she could be trusted. However, upon noting the firm lines of her face and the light of steel in her gaze, he found himself daring to hope. He knew little of wolves to begin with, so all he said was: "Your help will be greatly appreciated. But will your pack answer your call?"

At this, Allie let a smile slip. "Without a doubt."

King Theoden nodded. "Are they near enough to assemble with us? Few of my Men know of the true nature of wolves. They need to be able to trust those who will fight alongside us."

Councillor was the one to reply, "The last time I sensed them through the Blood link, they were making their way here as led by our leaders. They should be able to reach us in the next few days."

"What about Informant?" Allie inquired. "He went far to the South, didn't he?"

"All the way to Umbar," Councillor confirmed. "I have not been able to sense him ever since he drank the water and returned to his human form. However, I do know of his route by tracking the wolves that followed after him. Five days ago, they were still making their way upriver on the boats of the Corsairs."

"The Corsairs are allies of Sauron!" Theoden exclaimed with one eyebrow raised.

"Not since their King fell," Councillor replied. "The pirates are now on our side."

Eomer sat up straighter. "How many?"

"I did not ask," Councillor admitted. "But the wolves I sensed were scattered amidst many ships, ten at the very least. They had not yet reached the port of Pelargir by then. But once they do, no doubt more will join them."

"Now that is better news!" Eomer said.

Theoden rubbed his beard, quickly calculating what the new numbers meant for them.

Aragorn raised a hand and the hubbub of voices died down once more. Gandalf threw him an inquisitive look and waited for him to speak.

"Let us not rejoice yet," he pleaded, "let us not forget that Sauron has the One Ring. The strength of his army will be multiplied by its evil magic. When Elendil and Gil-galad challenged him three thousand years ago, Sauron was able to wipe off a large portion of the Alliance all by himself, and yet the Alliance was an army made of hundreds of thousands of the best Elven and Numenorean warriors. We will never be able to match such strength."

"But the Alliance still won," Gimli grumbled. "After Isildur cut the damn Ring off Sauron's finger, the Dark Lord was as good as dead."

"But he did not die," Gandalf mumbled. "Weakened, yes. But he's worked his evil for all these years and now he has regained his formal strength."

"But if he was defeated once, he can be defeated again!"

All eyes riveted on Frodo, who had just spoken. The Ring-bearer met their eyes squarely, and continued louder: "If we manage to get close to Sauron and take the Ring away from him, then our army will have a chance!" His blue eyes turned cold. "And this time, when he loses the Ring, he will never get a hold of it again. My Quest is not over. It will not be over until that Ring is melting in the fires of Mount Doom. I intend to see to it this time, no matter what."

Gandalf slowly set down his pipe. His eyes were piercingly serious when he asked: "Are you certain of this, Frodo? Sauron will be a more cunning and dangerous adversary than he was three thousand years ago, and he will no longer make the same mistake of losing the Ring. He will guard it as a dragon would guard stolen gold."

Frodo did not let the Wizard's words cripple his determination.

"There must be a way," he repeated. "I am willing to search for it."

Allie felt her heart quiver at his words. She admired his courage, and yet was gripped with fear at the same time. The determination on his face reminded her of the one he had borne on that autumn day under the leaves of Rivendell, when he had offered to carry the Ring to Mordor. Except that now, no hesitation followed his words. Today, he knew exactly what dangers lay ahead and even so was willing to set forth.

Theoden considered him for a long moment. "It will be an incredibly risky endeavor. You might not return alive."

Frodo's gaze hardened: "If I do not do this, none of us will return alive. I have seen his army and I have tasted the power of the One Ring. Sauron has hundreds of thousands of Orcs at his command, not counting the Easterlings, Southrons and other allies. As Aragorn stated, our numbers pale in comparison. I understand that my words might seem irresponsible and naïve to you, but one thing I have learned through my hardships is that no one can foresee what might happen during a battle. If I keep my eyes open and look for the window of opportunity that I seek, then I will find it. Is that not the only hope we have left at this point?"

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into the approving face of Aragorn. The Dunedain's face was solemn and full of respect as he regarded the hobbit. "Unpredictability is indeed the nature of war. Frodo, I have once offered you my sword, and now I gladly reiterate that vow. I shall try to the best of my abilities to open that window of opportunity for you."

"Aye," Gimli grunted softly. "My axe is still yours as well, lad. It has not served you much in your previous Quest, but this time it shall stay with you till the bitter end."

"And so will my bow," Legolas declared.

Sam and Merry also stood to stand behind Frodo.

"We are still with you all the way, Mr. Frodo," Sam announced seriously. "We will put an end to this unfinished business."

Merry simply nodded solemnly. "There is not much I can do for you, Frodo, but you can count me in. This is what friends do after all. We stay together, no matter what."

Gandalf could not help smiling softly as he gently put down his pipe. "The Fellowship still holds true to one another," he announced warmly. "This time, the burden is no longer only yours, Frodo. This time, we will shoulder it together."

Frodo looked at them all, moved to the very core. After failing the Quest, oftentimes he had thought it impossible to face the other members of the Fellowship again. The fact that they were still willing to sacrifice it all alongside him meant more to him than he could express.

King Theoden and Eomer were moved as well by the solidarity of the Fellowship. The King stood up and raised his goblet to Frodo. "Rohan will join its cause to that of the Fellowship. We will be counting on you, Mr. Baggins."

Allie watched the scene unfold in front of her, torn between pride and fear. Frodo looked at her then, and she slowly let go of the breath she didn't know she had been holding. Casting her fears and doubts aside, she slowly stood up, never letting go of his gaze.

"Frodo, this window of opportunity that you seek, I might be able to give it to you."

"How?" Gimli immediately inquired.

His question was echoed by many other stunned voices. However, Allie's gaze did not leave Frodo's face. Something in her eyes and the lines of her mouth made a chill suddenly travel down his spine.

Allie kept eye contact with Frodo for one more second before turning to face them all. "Few in Middle-earth know the full details behind the forging of the Ring of Power. I only learned of this recently as well, in a cavern beneath Isengard where Saruman held me captive."

Slowly, without omitting any details, she told them about the conversation between her and the mother of wolves; she told them about the origin of wolves, the true nature of the Blood, and how that linked to Sauron and the Ring.

"Sauron is not a God; he is not omnipotent. He has flaws, just like any of us. No, even more so than any of us. And that is why he has fallen so deep into darkness. However, his greed and his hunger for power can also be his undoing. If his conscience fully awakens inside of me when I am close to him, then something might happen. Perhaps it will not be significant, but at the very least it will throw him off balance, even if for just a second. But that second could become our window of opportunity."

"Queen!" Councillor admonished. "This is a wolf matter! It is not something that should be revealed so easily to others!"

She looked at him fiercely. "It's no longer a matter that only concerns the wolves, Councillor. If we are to form a trustworthy alliance with these people, if we are to be part of this Fellowship, then everything must be laid down on the table! Especially a matter as important as this."

Gandalf wiped at his beard with one hand while his pipe lay forgotten in the other. His eyes were deeply troubled as he took in the significance of what she had revealed to them.

Councillor was pacing restlessly now. "But we do not understand the Blood enough to risk this. If what you say is true, then have you thought of the possibility that returning this dormant part of Sauron to him will only make him stronger?"

"Yes, I have. But even if that's the case, there will be a moment of shock when he once more faces the part of him that he discarded all those years ago. We have to make use of his surprise to take the Ring back!"

Saying things so daringly made a silence fall over the assembly, one during which everyone harbored their own troubled thoughts. Councillor stopped his pacing and went down on one knee in front of his Queen. His brown eyes were clearly torn. "And what will happen to you when the Blood leaves us for Sauron?"

Allie stood still when she read the real question in his eyes.

_What will happen to us? What will happen to the wolves?_

She was suddenly conscious of all pairs of eyes fixed on them. But the other people did not need to hear this; they did not need to be concerned with a price that was hers alone to pay. "The mother of wolves told me that when the Blood leaves me, I will simply remain in my wolf form. I will not die, if that is your concern. And neither will you or any of the other wolves."

She turned towards the others. "All you need to decide is this: will you help me to get close to Sauron when the time comes? If your answer is yes, then we should center our plan of attack around this key strategy."

Gandalf looked grim; Legolas' face was grave; Theoden and Eomer seemed heavy in thoughts, pondering over her information. Aragorn regarded her keenly and seemed to want to say something, before deciding better of it.

She suddenly felt her hand being crushed in Frodo's grip. Slowly, she turned towards him. Incomprehension and beginning of alarm clouded his usually clear gaze. "What is this?" he mouthed to her. "What are you saying?"

She returned his gaze squarely. "I will not let you go to the enemy without at least a chance of success. Let me give you this chance, please. This time, our Quest will not fail."

"You have given us much to ponder, Queen of wolves," King Theoden finally replied. "This meeting shall be adjourned to the day after the morrow. It will give each of us time to think about what has been discussed today. We will decide then what is to be the best course of action."

That being said, he twirled around and left the Hall, his boots clicking on the stone floor. Slowly, the others also stood and shuffled to the exit, whispering among themselves.

Allie gently slid her hand out of Frodo's still tight grip and followed after the others. She felt like she had swallowed a boulder and her lack of sleep from the previous night made her feel as though she floated rather than walked outside the Hall.

Frodo followed behind her more slowly, shielding his eyes from the brilliant sun when he came out onto the high parapet overlooking the sinewy streets of Edoras. Beside him, a flag bearing the sigil of the white horse galloping upon green fields was clapping to the wind.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned in time to see Merry rushing out of the Hall. His friend brushed past him to seize Allie by the arm. He twirled her around.

"What did you do mean back there?" he shouted. "If it's true that you have a piece of Sauron's consciousness within you, then you should stay away from this battle!"

Sam also caught up with them and stood beside Frodo, looking at the scene with wide eyes.

Allie placed her hand upon Merry's and gently dislodged it from her arm. "How can I stay away when I know you will all be in it, risking your lives? How can I stay away when I know that what I have inside of me can make a difference?"

Merry's brown eyes were burning. "There must be some other way! You know what this Blood thing of yours can do to you! What if… what if you lose control again?"

Her eyes hardened. "That won't happen again!"

Merry shook his head. "Allie, don't be stubborn this time, I beg of you! Because this time, it might be your last! Councillor told me that you have fully transformed into a wolf now, so what will happen when the Blood leaves you? You could lose your life!"

He suddenly stopped and cringed as he glanced at Frodo. The latter was not looking at either of them, and his face was blank.

Merry felt angry all over again by that look. "You talk to her too, Frodo! She will listen to you!"

Frodo looked at Merry wearily, and then at Allie. "We will all be risking our lives in this war," he said. "Allie is saying that no one knows what will really happen if the Blood leaves, so there is no use conjuring up the worst. We simply have to focus on making this plan a success. We simply have to focus on surviving!"

She sustained his gaze firmly and gave a small nod of assent.

"I'm tired now," she declared. "I'm going back."

Merry threw one desperate last look at Frodo before following after her. When they disappeared from view inside the castle, he was still trying to reason with her. Frodo glanced down at the streets of Edoras for long seconds, before starting towards the castle as well.

"Mr. Frodo," Sam called from behind him.

Frodo looked back and saw that his gardener was clearly shaken. "I must say that I am of a mind with Mr. Merry on this. Is it really all right to let her do this?"

"Her mind is already made up," Frodo answered after a while. "She made it up after hearing what I said at the meeting." He took in a deep breath. "And she is right. After everything she's told us concerning Sauron's conscience, this is our best chance."

Sam was shaking his head. "It's all wrong, Mr. Frodo. You know it too. Please!"

Frodo did not answer, but simply walked away.

Sam watched him leave with a heavy heart.

* * *

The next day, Frodo stood in awe amidst the streets of Edoras. With the arrival of the Gondorian refugees and the return of the Rohan folk from Helm's Deep, the city was now boiling with life in spite of the dark times. All the markets were open and the streets were full of vendors and of running children. The sound of the blacksmiths' hammers working on new armors and weapons rang out from the forges, sometimes overwhelming the hubbub of voices coming from the streets.

The stables were full of the cries of stable boys and the whinny of horses. Beyond the gates of the city, more horses were scattered about, grazing at the grass while their riders tended to their shiny coats with coarse brushes. Brown tents were set up to house all mustering of Rohirrim Riders assembling for the upcoming war; their green capes and golden helmets created a weaving sea of their own.

Sam was standing beside Frodo, equally in awe. "I have never seen this many people gathered in the same place before. Look at that army! It extends farther than the eye can see!"

Frodo remembered the dark army of death he had glimpsed from the parapet of Minas Tirith. In comparison, the one gathered in Rohan seemed a mere garrison.

Allie and Merry walked up to them before he could sink deeper into that memory. Allie's cheeks had regained some colors as she looked around at all the activity with a childish sparkle in her grey eyes. The sight of it brought warmth to Frodo's heart.

After the heavy meeting with King Theoden the day before, the four hobbits had decided to take it easy for at least one day in order to explore Edoras on this fine morning of early spring.

Everywhere, the Rohan folk were helping the Gondorian people settle in. A circle of women were handing out supplies and used clothes from a stone house near the castle.

A group of three riders hailed the hobbits as they made their way down the city. The hobbits jumped aside to make way, and one of the riders nodded a salute to Frodo and Sam when he saw the crest of the White Tree on their armor.

Merry looked on with envy. "Say, do you think the blacksmiths from here can make me an armor like that?"

Sam pumped a fist to his chest. "Not without a rite of passage. Say something equivalent to crawling underground for five days without any assurance of seeing the sun again."

Merry arched an eyebrow. "I think mounting an Ent attack is just as well-deserving."

Allie found herself grinning genuinely at their exchange. The warmth of laughter and the clear shouts of the vendors were like a concert in her ears, lighting a bonfire in her heart.

She approached a stand selling Rohirrim style clothes. There were trousers and vests made of leather, as well as high riders' boots and capes of silk. Three young Rohirrim lads were trying on the boots in the right side corner of the stand as an old vendor with a black beard fussed over them.

Suddenly, a brown vest invaded Allie's field of vision and Frodo's smiling face appeared behind it. "What do you think?" he asked. "I know you like my shirt, but you can't be wearing it forever."

She arched an eyebrow at him, but then looked down at his oversized shirt that she was still wearing over a pair of trousers that Merry had let her borrow. She was indeed in much need of new clothes. She missed her Elven-made leather suit, but there was no use longing after something that was long gone.

She touched the coarse but resilient material of the vest and nodded in appreciation. She took it from Frodo and wore it over her shirt. The vest was light but warm, and it fit her well.

The vendor spotted them from the corner of his eye and came fluttering over like a butterfly. His eyes lit up when he saw the White Tree on Frodo's golden armor. "You must be the legendary Halflings who have guided the people of Gondor to the safety of our borders! What can I do for you today, my little Lord and Lady?" he boomed in a joyous voice.

Allie exchanged an amused smile with Frodo and then chose a pair of horse-skin trousers to complement the vest. The vendor also tried to sell her a pair of boots, but she shook her head and pointed down at her furry feet, telling him that they were more resilient than the best quality leather.

She changed into her new clothes behind the stand, and when she came out again, wearing her vest over Frodo's shirt with her new shiny trousers underneath, she truly looked like a Rohirrim rider. The look of appreciation in Frodo's eyes made her blush pleasantly.

The vendor clasped his hands together in delight and bent down to readjust her vest.

"Your hair is caught under the vest, my Lady! Here, let me help!"

"Oh!" She grasped a handful of the hair that was stuck and lifted it up in a ponytail. The motion revealed a long scar on the side of her neck. She registered the shock in the Man's eyes at the sight of it and brusquely let her hair down again.

The Man backed away awkwardly. "Will that be all then?"

"Yes," she said.

The vendor produced an abacus from his inner pocket and started flipping the beads with his finger. "Let's see, that is one vest, and one pair of trousers, for a total of…"

Frodo and Allie suddenly exchanged a quick glance of concern. They hadn't thought about money until now, but as they felt for their pockets, they realized that they didn't have any.

Before the vendor could finish his calculations, he was suddenly hit in the buttocks with a cane.

"What are you doing, young man?" a hoarse voice reprimanded.

Frodo's eyes widened when he recognized the old lady that was among the Gondorian refugees he had helped to guide out of the mountains. With her white hair billowing in the early morning breeze, she lifted her cane and hit the vendor across the waist this time.

"How can you demand money from him?" she yelled loud enough for half the street to hear. "Do you not know who this young man is?" She designated Frodo with her cane and added: "He is our savior. One vest and one pair of trousers is far from being enough payment for his courage. If you ask him to pay for anything, I will beat the soul out of your body!"

The vendor cowered away from another onslaught. "But still, I have to make a living! Aye! Lower your cane, woman!"

Frodo made a step towards the old lady. "That is kind of you, but…"

Her old and crinkly eyes zoomed in on him. "You stay out of this, my Lord! I will talk some sense into him, you just wait and see!"

A group of curious onlookers was quickly forming, and many of them were from Gondor. Upon hearing the old lady's accusations, they all started nodding in favor of her words. Finally, the vendor craved under the pressure and relented to give them the goods for free, to the cheers of the crowd.

Allie leaned close to Frodo with a smile. "You are quite the hero, _my Lord_. You still haven't told me the details of how you know all these people."

Frodo's cheeks turned pink, but a smile lit up his features. He grabbed her hand and pulled her after him. "Let's leave for now; we are attracting too much attention."

When they finally broke free of the crowd, they saw Merry and Sam following the scene from across the street with equally magmatic smiles on their faces. "Come, Frodo. Let us try that food stand next! And do bring that old lady along!" Merry suggested with one pragmatic finger raised.

Allie and Sam laughed when Frodo shoved Merry on the shoulder.

"Frodo! Frodo!"

They all turned towards the source of the young voice. One second later, Tania emerged out of the crowd and threw herself into Frodo's arms. "Where have you been?" she hollered. "This place is so much fun! And the horses! Have you seen the horses?"

"Tania!" a Man's voice called out, and then Aldamir emerged from the crowd as well with his sword banging at his hip. He sighed in relief at the sight of young girl but then his brows furrowed menacingly. "Don't make me chase you again, lass! When I say no running, I mean it! Oh hello, Frodo. How have you been?"

Frodo beamed up at him and introduced his hobbit friends to Tania and Aldamir. Tania regarded them all with wide and curious eyes. "You are all so _short_!" she giggled. "Are you really grown-ups?"

"Now, Tania, don't be impolite," Aldamir reprimanded.

However, Tania already was not listening to him. She stopped in front of Allie and compared her own shredded dress with the new garments of the hobbit. She pouted and went to tug on Aldamir's sleeve. "Aldamir!" she bellowed, "I want to wear that too! I'm tired of wearing this dress!"

Allie pointed at the stand of clothes belonging to the vendor with the mustache and whispered conspiratorially to Tania's ear: "I got them over there. Do you see the old lady with the white hair still talking with the vendor? If you go now, she might help you get the clothes without need for payment."

Tania's eyes became round. "Truly?" she whispered back in the same conspiratorial tone.

Allie simply winked.

When Tania had left, Allie couldn't help laughing. "Quite a lively one, isn't she?"

Merry nudged her. "She reminds me of you when you were her age!"

"What?" Allie exclaimed, laughing, but then admitted: "Yes, I think we would have gotten along well."

However, Tania never ended up making it to the clothes stand. As she was crossing the street, she was suddenly distracted by loud yelling and cheering coming from further up the street. She seized Frodo by one hand and Aldamir by the other and dragged them towards the source of the commotion. The other hobbits followed after them and squeezed through the crowd until they saw two Men facing each other in the center of a ring formed by onlookers. They were Rohirrim riders fully dressed in their leather armor, green capes and golden helmets. Each man had a long spear in one hand as they circled each other slowly, all muscles tensed in preparation for the assault.

Under Allie's appreciative eyes, one of the two Men circled in all of a sudden; his spear launched forward like the head of a snake and cut off a dark pouch dangling from the other man's belt. Half of the crowd let out wild cheers, while the other half groaned and shook their heads. Small bags of gold coins were passed from those who had betted on the loser to those who had picked the winner.

A young man launched himself inside the ring and lifted up the fist of the winner to a new round of applause. "Who will be next to challenge the King of Spears? On to twenty gold coins for the next round! Do we have a challenger for twenty gold coins?"

Tania beamed up at Aldamir through her missing tooth. "Go for it, Aldamir! You can surely win against that man!"

Aldamir rubbed a hand through his beard. "I'm not so sure, lass… wait!"

But Tania had already pushed him inside the ring. The crowd cheered as the mediator screamed out the presence of a new challenger. It was too late to back out now. Aldamir sighed and took up the spear that he was being offered. Tania clapped and shouted in a surprisingly loud voice for her young age.

"Aldamir!" she bellowed. "Teach him a lesson, Aldamir!"

Allie smiled as she watched the beginning of the match. She put her hands in the front pockets of her trousers and her fingers met something cold there. Distracted, she groped for it and took out the half-moon pendant. For a long moment, she stood there gazing at it as the sounds of the screaming crowed dimmed at her ears.

Frodo was beside her, following the match with an intent look in his eyes.

She looked around until she spotted what she was looking for. Frodo still seemed to be completely absorbed by the fight, along with Merry and Sam. She left them to it and swiftly crossed the street by herself and walked until she reached the shop of a blacksmith. Many soldiers were inside, looking at the swords and shields on display as the hammer resounded from the forge behind.

The bald man at the desk came forward upon spotting Allie.

"What can I do for you?" he shouted over the noise.

Allie showed her the pendant and yelled back: "I need a chain. The most solid one you have!"

The man appraised the pendant for a second and then went to the back room. When he came back out, he had a plain metal chain in between his fingers. "It is the only kind we have at the moment that is thin enough for your pendant. It is not pretty, but I'm afraid there will not be much time for pretty things with the war coming."

Allie smiled up at him. "This serves my purposes quite well. Thank you."

She wired it through the half-moon pendant and watched it dangle in front of her eyes as she held it up by the chain. She touched the stone with one finger and let out a sigh of nostalgia.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder and she jolted around.

Sam was standing behind her with a smile. "You might need this," he was saying as he handed her a gold coin. "Aldamir just won his match!"

She smiled as she gave the coin to the bald blacksmith as payment. The man grunted his thanks and gave her some silver coins as change.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked.

"I saw you leaving and I followed you here when the match was over." His hazel eyes were still brimming from the adrenaline of watching the fight. "Even if I am no expert, I could tell that was an excellent match. That fellow Aldamir is more than decent with a spear, I must say!"

Allie nodded. "I knew he would win. The other man is fast, but he is injured."

Sam's eyes widened. "How can you tell?"

"It was the way he was holding his spear. I could tell his right wrist was hurt."

Sam nodded pensively as she passed the chain around her neck and then hid the pendant behind her vest.

"It is good luck that you have found your pendant again," he remarked.

She nodded with a smile.

A throng of children ran past between them, yelling and laughing. When they had passed, Allie stepped close to Sam once more. "I am surprised it's this lively. It doesn't feel like we are at war. For a moment, I have managed to forget it myself."

Sam eyed the thickening crowd gathered around the spearmen. "I don't think these folk have forgotten. They are simply trying to find some joy in life while they still can. When the darkness comes, there will be no more time for any of this. It's such a shame, really."

Allie caught sight of Frodo standing outside the ring of onlookers. Tania was cheering louder than ever for Aldamir, sitting on top of Frodo's shoulders for a better view.

"Yes, indeed. It's such a shame," she agreed softly with Sam.

In a bout of excitement, Tania seized a handful of Frodo's hair and pulled. Frodo grimaced and shouted something up at her. Tania looked down for a second, laughed, and then resumed watching the fight.

"He would have been a good father," she found herself saying.

Sam did not need to ask who she was referring to. He knew she was right. Frodo had always shown kindness to the people around him, whether they were adults or children. He would have been a father that his children could have looked upon with pride.

"You would have been a good mother as well, Allie," he replied honestly.

"Me?" she laughed. "No, Sam. I don't even know what it means to be one. I've never had a mother of my own to show me."

"And yet, you are like a mother to your wolves, aren't you?"

She turned towards Sam in surprise and met his warm gaze. "I have spoken to Councillor. He says you are the first Queen who has been like family to him. He says you have given more of yourself to the pack than anyone ever has. You have accepted them for who they are, guided them and protected them over the years. Is that not how a good mother should be?"

She had to look away to calm the pounding in her heart. Did her wolves truly consider her as a mother when she was younger than so many of them? She didn't really know, but she hoped Sam's words were true. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine how it would be like to build a family with Frodo and to have their children run around the yard without a care in the world, just as the children of Rohan were doing at this instant.

But she supposed that was not in the plans for her. Not in this lifetime.

As her eyes found Frodo once more amongst the crowd, a ray of sun pierced the clouds and fell on his golden armor, dazzling her for a second.

"Oh, Mr. Frodo must be looking for you," Sam was saying beside her.

Indeed, Frodo was now no longer watching the match but scanning the crowd to both sides of him. Allie clutched at her pendant. "Then let's go back to him, Sam."

After that, Tania and Aldamir led the hobbits to a stand selling roasted lamb. The breeze carried the smell of cooking meat all the way down the street, and the hobbits found themselves salivating long before they got there.

"I am starving!" Merry exclaimed as he pushed his way to the front.

Aldamir used his newly earned gold to treat them all to sticks of skewered meat, which they brought to a nearby empty courtyard to eat. The sizzling meat dripped grease down the stick and onto their fingers as they ate, and even Allie found her appetite returning as she wolfed it all down while leaning against one of the trees of the courtyard.

Frodo came to her with a stick of meat in each hand and leaned on the tree beside her. "Where have you been?" he wondered. "I was looking for you."

She swallowed her last bite of lamb and pulled out the newly purchased chain to show him. Frodo pushed off from the tree to better examine it.

"I'm glad you have it back!"

"Thanks to you. I didn't even realized I lost it until I had it no more." She rubbed the old stone tenderly as she said this.

Frodo sighed. "I wish I had not lost mine. It must still be in front of the Black Gate, where Gollum pulled it off my neck along with the Ring."

His eyes dimmed at the memory.

Without knowing she was going to do it, she took the chain off her neck and handed it to him. When he only stared at her but made no motion to take it, she stepped close to him and passed the chain around his head. The stone clinked when it came to rest against the breastplate of his armor.

Frodo continued gaping at her.

"I'm giving it to you. It's yours now," she announced casually.

Frodo frowned and shook his head. "No, Allie. This one is yours and you should keep it."

She stopped him from taking it off.

"Do you remember Galadriel's gifts when we departed from Lothlorien? She gave me her blessing through this pendant. She told me that the love I bear for you will bring me back to the light, Frodo. And that's what happened. When I was in that dark place, I saw this pendant falling across the space in front of me and suddenly I could hear your voice once more, calling out my name. You were saying it so earnestly that I could no longer allow myself to cower in fear in the darkness. I struggled and I struggled, until I finally found myself again."

"Isn't that more reason for you to keep it?"

She shrugged with a smile. "It's already saved me once. If it still has some magic left, then I want it to protect_ you _instead."

Frodo was speechless as a knot formed in his throat.

Then, he reached into the small bag of possessions he always carried with him and fumbled inside until he found Galadriel's phial. The glass was smooth and cool in his palm and as he lifted it to eye level. The liquid inside shone golden under the sun.

He took Allie's hand and gently deposited the Elven phial on her palm. "Then let's make an exchange. Your pendant for this phial. This is the most precious thing that I have left after everything that's happened. Maybe there's some light left in it yet."

She bit her lip as she stroked the smooth and cold glass with her thumb. "All right. It's a deal." She peered up at him playfully. "I've always wanted it, you know? Now I can finally have it!"

Frodo threw his arms in the air. "I should have known it was all a ploy!"

Allie laughed as she carefully put the phial in the inner pocket of her vest for safekeeping, and Frodo smiled as he placed the pendant underneath his armor and then took another bite of his lamb.

He lifted his head when he heard Allie sighing. She was looking at him with a slight shake of her head.

"What?" he asked, amused.

For only response, she brushed her thumb against the side of his mouth to wipe away a smear of grease from the skewered meat. "And I have always thought I was the messy eater," she said as she licked her thumb.

Frodo rolled his eyes. "You are. You have it all over your mouth too, you just can't see it."

She frowned. "No way!"

"Don't move!" Frodo said when she was about to wipe at her mouth.

Allie obeyed, but her grey eyes had turned challenging. "Why?"

"Let me get that for you," he commented wickedly.

Before she could reply, he leaned in and kissed her. With the touch of his lips, Allie experienced an initial shock of terror when the image of crawling hands burst in her mind. But then the warmth of Frodo's mouth dispelled the image, and she found herself clinging to his neck with all her strength.

_That's right_, she told herself, _the Spell's ended. Enough of this already!  
_

When Allie relaxed and kissed him back, the sticks of skewered lamb dropped from Frodo's hands to the grass. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed her back until she met the tree behind her.

Gradually, their kisses grew soft and long instead of passionate and hard.

"Frodo," she whispered against his lips.

"Mmm?" he whispered back, his hand buried in her hair.

Suddenly, Tania's voice reached them from across the courtyard: "Look here! If you are done eating, let us visit the stables! They have one of the Miras!"

"Mearas," Aldamir corrected indulgently, probably not for the first time.

"Truly?" Sam exclaimed. "You don't mean those legendary and wild horse-lords, do you?"

"It is precisely that!" Tania replied with a toothy grin.

Frodo and Allie broke apart with an amused smile. They left the cover of their tree and rejoined the others to slowly amble down the streets of Edoras to the main gate leading out to the plains. The stables were a series of low buildings on either side of the main courtyard behind the main gate.

When they stepped inside, the smell of hay and the stamping of horses immediately overwhelmed their senses. Several stable boys were pouring grains of oat into dangling buckets placed at the front of each stall from which the horses fed. Aragorn and Eowyn were amongst the stable boys, providing a helping hand to brush the coats of the proud beasts.

After exchanging greetings with Aragorn and Eowyn, Tania led them to the stall housing the snow-white Mearas. Allie was immediately drawn in by the aura of majesty surrounding the animal.

"His name is Shadowfax. He has accompanied Gandalf in many journeys, or at least that is what the Wizard told me," Aragorn spoke low from behind them.

When Allie met the Mearas' gaze, she saw herself reflected in the deep oval eyes of the horse-lord. She did not know why, but she felt as though he was seeing right through her. The sadness, the hurt and the guilt that she had been trying so hard to bury within herself were all exposed to the surface under his deep yet understanding gaze.

She reached out a hand, hesitated, and then advanced it a bit more until her palm came to rest against Shadowfax's soft mane. The white horse tilted his head and considered her with eyes full of kindness.

Allie did not remember the last time she had been able to touch a horse or any other beast without scaring them away. Before, even when she was in hobbit form, all the animals could still smell the wolf in her.

Eowyn stood on the other side of the stall and caressed Shadowfax' forehead. "Would you like to go for a ride?" she proposed to Allie.

The hobbit looked up at the Lady of Rohan with wonder, and Eowyn re-affirmed her proposition with a nod.

"I would love to!" Allie replied eagerly, and then turned towards the white horse. "That is, if Shadowfax is willing."

She knew he could understand their words. The race of Mearas reminded her much of that of wolves. They had their pride and their own will. Shadowfax nodded his head once in assent and blew hot air out of his nostrils.

Allie turned towards Frodo with a smile. "Come with me."

Frodo glanced briefly at Eowyn, who only smiled. Feeling a touch of excitement, he then took Allie's outstretched hand to let her guide them into the stall. Shadowfax kept still as Allie climbed upon his back, followed by Frodo. There was no saddle on his back and no reins around his mouth, but that was how it was supposed to be.

Tania regarded them with envy. "Can I go for a ride also?"

Aldamir scooped her up in his arms. "If you are good, then maybe we can ask for permission later."

Tania smiled widely at this. "I will be good. I promise!"

Aragorn opened the door to the stall and stood aside with Eowyn. Merry and Sam jumped to the side with a hoot when Shadowfax galloped out of his stall like the wind, kicking up flurries of hay off the ground.

Riders from the Riddermark setting camp all around Edoras looked up from their tasks and exclaimed upon seeing the Mearas charge through their ranks. Their horses neighed loudly and would have followed after him if not for their riders' tight grip around their reins.

Shadowfax zigzagged among the tents and soon left the site of mustering behind. Allie let out a small cry of joy when the expanse of the plains of Rohan opened up on both sides of them, extending and undulating away like a green sea. Frodo locked his arms around her waist when their speed made the wind slap against his face and howl in his ears.

Both hobbits soon came to realize that the Mearas' cadence was steadier compared to that of wolves. His back seemed almost to glide as he galloped faster and faster, smoother and smoother, until it seemed as though he had taken flight.

They went up the slope of one hill and then down the other side like a guff of wind. Even when the terrain became more wild and treacherous, Shadowfax's sure gait instinctively guided him onwards without slowing down. His powerful hooves kicked up motes of dirt and grass as he jumped over the occasional rocks that they came across.

After awhile, Frodo looked ahead and saw plains and hills and streams rolling past in a mosaic of green and brown and blue. Up above their heads, clouds flew past on a blue sky, swiftly blown south by a breeze that carried the scent of spring showers.

"Allie!" Frodo hollered in her ear. "We are flying! This must be what flying feels like!"

Allie grinned and let go of Shadowfax's mane to lace her fingers with his. She could feel Shadowfax's exhilaration as the horse's muscles rolled and trembled with adrenaline at each powerful stride. Suddenly, he flared his nostrils and swerved right, scaring away a flock of black crows resting on a nearby boulder.

The birds' cacophony rose all around them as the Mearas galloped through them. Allie let out a euphoric scream and Frodo laughed behind her as he reached out a hand to catch one of the black feathers.

The crows swerved up towards the sun, before swerving right again with wild cries of alarm when the silhouette of an eagle suddenly detached itself from the sun. The king of birds flew directly above them, a silent shadow against the sky, before it disappeared behind a cluster of dark rain clouds.

Shadowfax continued running forward tirelessly and managed to stay ahead of the rain clouds for another hundred miles or so before the storm finally gained on them.

Frodo pointed ahead to a heap of white shapes. "Look!"

Allie squinted her eyes. "It's a flock of sheep! There must be a farm nearby!"

Soon enough, a small hut appeared at the ridge of the next hill. At that moment, the rain started falling softly all around them without warning. The drops were big but gentle, creating a soft murmur as they splashed almost soundlessly down onto the plains. The grass started rustling in song under the deluge.

Allie looked back at Frodo. "Where are we?"

Frodo laughed. "All I know is that we have come too far to go back. Let us take shelter in that hut for now!"

Shadowfax heard them and slowed down to a walk when he reached the hut. Frodo jumped down, followed by Allie.

He went to knock on the door of the hut, but it was open and deserted. It must have served as a storage building for a nearby sheep farm, for there were farming tools inside along with heaps and heaps of lambskins and raw wool.

"Allie! It's empty!" he announced over his shoulder.

Shadowfax had gone some distance away to graze at the grass, mindless of the rain. Allie was standing there with her back to him as the rain silently fell around her and soaked through her clothes. Slowly, Frodo walked up the gentle slope to stand beside her.

From where they stood, they had a plunging view of the plains. Meduseld castle on its high hill was but a small golden dot in the distance. To their right, a stream zigzagged through the land like a silver ribbon.

"All this open space, all this freedom. Rohan is a beautiful place," she said as she hugged his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder.

Frodo nodded his assent.

They stood there for a long time, losing themselves in this peaceful landscape being washed clean by mild rain. After some time, Allie was about to start towards the hut when Frodo turned to face her. Raindrops ran down his cheeks and dripped down his bangs, but he was mindless of them. "The melody of the rain, do you hear it?" he asked her.

She closed her eyes to open her heart to the rain surrounding them, just like she used to do when she was a child. Soon, everything she loved best about a rainy day like this came back to her: the sound of raindrops hitting the grass and rolling down the leaves of nearby trees; the spring breeze lifting water off the surface of the river coursing to their right; the whisper of the breeze.

She opened her eyes again.

"I hear it," she said. "Loud and clear."

Frodo seemed to be waiting for that answer, for when her voice stopped ringing, he held out his hand to her. "Then will you grant me this dance, Allie?"

He was standing in front of her, smiling and expectant. The rain had soaked through his dark curls, rendering them almost black as they stuck to his forehead and fell a bit in his eyes. Raindrops clung to his face and neck, some rolled down the surface of his armor like crystal pearls.

She still remembered the first time she had realized she loved him, on top of that Party Tree in Hobbiton. She still remembered that drumming sound in her chest that seemed to have overtaken every other sound in the world. She still remembered how his face had filled in every inch of her vision until everything else had faded to the background. And right now, once more the sight of him soaked wet with rain was the only thing she could see and the drumming beat of her heart in her ribcage the only sound she could hear. A feeling of awe washed over her when she realized she was falling in love with him all over again.

She must have given him her hand then, because suddenly their hands were clasped together and he was pulling her close by the waist.

She rested her chin on his shoulder a bit awkwardly. "I've never danced before."

"Close your eyes then," he said.

She did as she was told and let him guide her. Cheek by cheek and hand in hand, they swayed gently to the rainy melody all around them.

Behind her closed eyelids, she could suddenly see the Party Tree again, with lights around its trunk and lively music playing from the several instruments masterfully handled by a group of hobbits. The smell of good food was in the air, mingled with the sweet scent of pipe weed. And in the midst of it all, Frodo and she were turning and turning as the lights from the Party Tree cast bright glows upon their faces.

When she opened her eyes again to the view of the plains of Rohan, an ache spread in her chest, making it hard to breathe. She inspired deeply to make that stuffy feeling go away.

Suddenly, she wished she could take back the words she had spoken before King Theoden. She wished she had never revealed the truth about the identity of the Blood. She did not want to die; she did not want to disappear; she did not want to revert back to being a wolf. She only wanted to dance with him for real under the lights of the Party Tree and then go back to Bag End where Bilbo would be waiting for them with dinner ready and served. She suddenly remembered with vivid clarity how life used to be back then.

But the innocence of those days was now gone to never return.

Frodo pulled away from her at that moment, and she saw with a pang to her chest that his eyes were moist as well.

He seized her shoulders and looked at her with an intensity that pierced her. "When the effects of the Ent water come to an end, turn me into a wolf," he pleaded, his voice hoarse.

Protest boiled up to her lips immediately, but the intensity of his gaze made her stifle the words back. He had spoken of this once before, and she had gotten angry at him then. But now, she could see that he was serious about it even though he understood all the implications.

Or perhaps not all of them.

She was shaking her head unconsciously as she thought of how to phrase what she was going to say. "Frodo," she started haltingly, "there is... something you need to know before you make that decision. I told the Council that I don't know what will happen when the Blood leaves, but the truth is... the mother of wolves warned me that the Blood is what allows us to retain our human intellect while in a wolf body."

Frodo was standing very still in front of her now.

"Do you know what this means?" she asked quietly, clenching her hands together. "It means that there is chance the wolves might forget who they used to be after the Blood leaves us."

Frodo's shoulders sagged and he seemed to become smaller in front of her very eyes. Allie looked away, unable to stand seeing him look this devastated again.

Suddenly, he let out a bitter chuckle. "What's this, Allie? It seems everything in the universe is _always_ working against us. It's like climbing up a hill in the snow. You make one step up, but glide two steps down."

He laughed bitterly again as he wiped a tear that rolled down from the corner of his eye.

_Perhaps it was just never meant to be,_ the voices mocked inside her head.

She bit her lower lip till she tasted blood.

"Fine!" Frodo screamed at the rainy skies over his head. "Fine! I don't care!" He seized Allie by the shoulder and shook her wildly. "I will take the risk! I will become a wolf because we might not forget! There is a chance of that happening too, isn't there? The mother of wolves doesn't know everything!"

"I don't know, Frodo," she answered as her face scrunched up with heartbreak. "I don't know what's going to happen."

"Well, what do you _think_?" Frodo let out wildly.

Allie turned her face away to hide her sorrow. At her silence, Frodo let go of her shoulders and stomped off into the rain, racking a hand through his wet hair as he let out a broken scream.

The rain was no longer welcoming, but bone-chilling on Allie's skin. It was an impossible choice no matter what they chose to do. However, if they both became wolves and then both forgot each other, it would be as if their love had never been, but at least she would not leave him behind to suffer on his own. Perhaps that _was_ the better choice.

"I don't know what the right answer is," she finally spoke, her voice barely a murmur, but still it reached Frodo's ears across the curtain of rain. "I really don't know what's the right thing to do, Frodo. But we knew this from the beginning, didn't we? We knew it was going to be like this in the end!"

She walked to him and pressed her forehead against his back. "But I was happy, Frodo. This afternoon, and these past couple of months ever since we met again. Every minute I spend with you I have held dearly in my heart."

Without a word, he turned around, drew her to him fiercely and hugged her hard. She wrapped her arms around him as well and closed her eyes into his painfully tight embrace.

"Yes," he said into her wet hair. "I was happy too, Allie. I was happy to see you again!"

Sorrow at their situation and joy at the memories he had shared with her raged inside of him like a storm. Every time he was with her, he felt everything so strongly: the love, the happiness, the sadness, the pain. Everything seemed intensified.

Trying to ignore the stingy feeling in his eyes, he added numbly into her neck: "I want to take on the gamble. I'm serious. Turn me into a wolf, Allie."

Allie tightened her arms around him achingly when she felt his shoulders shaking and knew that he was crying. "All right," she whispered to him as she fought back her own tears. "If you are sure, then all right."

Frodo pulled back and sniffed as he pressed a hand to his eyes. "Come," he said in a thick voice as he seized her hand. "We should get some shelter."

They walked slowly to the cabin and pushed open the door. The inside smelled of damp earth and of sheep. There was an empty fireplace at the far end of the room, and beside it stood piles upon piles of lambskins and raw wool.

The rain was falling harder now, thumping loudly against the unique window of the cabin. The raindrops left sinewy water tracks as they rolled down the muddy pane of glass.

Frodo laid some lambskins down on the dusty floorboards and sank down on them with his back to the wall. He watched his hands in a daze as he bowed his head down low. Raindrops dripped down from his hair to the lambskins below.

Allie stood beside him in a daze. After several seconds, she finally blinked and slowly discarded her soaked vest to the ground. The white shirt she wore underneath was soaked through by rain and stuck to her skin in several places, but she paid it no heed. Her eyes were on Frodo, who had not moved from his hunched position against the wall.

She fished out her handkerchief from the pocket of her trousers and twisted it as hard as she could to get the water out. Then, she knelt down on the lambskin in front of Frodo and gently dabbed at his sodden hair as best she could.

Frodo suddenly seized her wrist to stop her motion. He looked up at her through their arms linked together. Seeing that naked look in his eyes felt like a dagger to her heart. She truly wished things could be different; she truly wished he didn't need to suffer like this because he had fallen in love with someone like her.

"I wish we could just run away from this place. From this war. From everything," he confessed in a thick voice.

She sat back on her ankles and caressed his rain-soaked hair. "I know," she answered softly. "Wouldn't it be good if we could? But Frodo, there is really nowhere in this world to run to, nowhere in this world where I can change my fate. Still, I don't regret it. It might be selfish, but I can never regret _us_. I will make you a wolf if you wish me to. And then, if we must forget about this life when all is said and done, then so be it. But while we are still ourselves, while we are still Frodo and Allie, let us be good to each other. Let us stop crying and wallowing in guilt. Before the Ent water becomes obsolete to me, let us just... _live_."

He wiped at his tears with the back of his hand but more kept coming. "I will try," he finally said in a halting voice.

At this, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his forehead for a long time.

When he finally looked up at her through staggering blue eyes filled with raw emotion, she cupped his face in her hands.

"Don't cry anymore, Frodo," she said as she kissed away his tears.

Frodo tilted his face up slightly and caught her lips with his.

The raindrops clinging to her skin were chilling, but his mouth was warm on hers. And then Frodo was holding her waist as well, and wherever his hand touched her, heat ignited and chased away the cold.

And suddenly it seemed as though his hands were everywhere, and her entire body was beginning to burn up as though a sudden fever had seized her. She pressed up on her knees and he pulled her towards him until she sat on his lap with her legs on either side of him.

Their kisses gradually grew hungrier and more urgent as they sought out each other mouths.

Frodo then brushed her hair out of the way, revealing the long rosy scar running along her neck, from her clavicle to behind her ear. It was a sensitive spot to Allie and so it felt like lightning coursing through her nerves when he brushed it with his lips.

Chest heaving, she leaned back and saw the naked desire in Frodo's eyes. His hair was messy and standing every which way as he held her gaze.

"Allie…"

Allie silenced him with a finger to his lips. With her other hand, she started working on his breastplate, undoing the links between the pieces of his armor. Frodo smiled a little as he helped her, their fingers intertwining on the metal and leather pieces. Finally, the breastplate fell off to the floor with a clunk and Allie kicked it out of the way.

The remainder of the pieces of armor came off easily after that, except for one piece behind his back. He buried a small embarrassed laugh against her neck as she reached behind him to help him undo it.

When the last piece fell away, she rested her palm against the skin of his chest, marveling at the feeling of his heart beating like a wild beast under her hand. Grey eyes peeked up at him.

"Nervous?" she whispered.

There was a rosy tint to Frodo's cheeks. He pressed his lips together, and then admitted: "Perhaps."

She guided his hand to the front of her chest. "Me too," she confessed in a whisper. He placed his palm over one of her breasts; the damp tissue of her shirt was the only barrier between his hand and her skin. He smiled a little when he felt her heart galloping like a stallion, echoing the beat of his own crazed heart.

When she bent down to kiss his chest, right above his beating heart, Frodo leaned his chin against her hair as he took in a shuddering breath.

His fingers fumbled with her shirt till they found the buttons of her shirt. The first one was already undone, and Frodo worked as deftly as he could on the rest. He knew these buttons well; the shirt belonged to him after all.

However, Allie planting small kisses on his neck and ear as he worked did not make it easy for him to keep his hand steady. Finally, when he was done, he picked her up as though she weighed no more than a feather and laid her down on the lambskins beneath them.

Her shirt opened up all the way then, revealing a crisscross of old and new scars marring the pale skin of her belly and chest.

Frodo paused for a moment. Then, gently, he traced one of the larger scars by her belly button with an aching heart, wondering how much pain she must have endured at each of these cuts. Allie followed his gaze, and her eyes widened suddenly as though she were seeing her scars for the first time.

"No!" she whispered in horror as she covered one with her arm.

Frodo gently tried to dislodge her arm, but she hugged herself a bit tighter.

"Hey," Frodo said gently. "Allie, look at me."

She shook her head and rolled onto her side in fetal position as shameful tears pricked at her eyes. She had never paid much attention to what lay beneath her clothes until now. But now, in this moment, everything had changed. How could she have forgotten how she really looked like underneath?! Some of the old scars went so deep that they looked like white caterpillars entrenched in her skin. She muffled a horrified sob with her fist.

Frodo bent down to comfort her, but Sting still attached to his hip hindered his movement. He detached the scabbard and the latter clattered to the ground with a muffled thud. Frodo leaned over her again and gently ran a hand through her hair as he kissed her cheek. "Allie, look at me," he repeated more firmly.

Allie remained in her fetal position.

"What do you fear?" Frodo added. "Nothing will make me love you less."

Almost reluctantly, Allie lowered her fist and her teary grey eyes met his.

Her breath hitched when she saw nothing but love in his stunning blue eyes.

"Let me see you properly," he requested gently, "all of you."

"Frodo…"

He cut her off with a kiss as he seized her shoulders and rolled her onto her back once more. Her hair sprayed out beneath her as she did so, and some wild curls fell on her naked shoulder and down her chest.

He stayed still for a moment, just looking at her, and then bent down to kiss that which she was ashamed of. She let out an involuntary shudder of pleasure as his warm lips touched the skin of her belly. The warmth of his mouth felt good on her chilled skin. Slowly, gradually, her body relaxed under his gentle touch.

He went from one scar to the next, leaving a trail of kisses from her navel, to her flank, to her collarbone. Finally, when he returned to her mouth, she wrapped both arms around his neck.

"It doesn't matter to you?" she whispered against his lips, her grey eyes wide and uncertain.

He smiled. "What matters to me is you. I love you, Allie. All of you."

At this, she lifted her head off the lambskin and placed a grateful kiss on his shoulder.

She loved him too; loved him with every fiber of her being. At that moment, it was unfathomable to her that she could ever forget him, even if the Blood left her wolf body, even if the world itself turned to dust. The way Frodo looked as he hovered over her: his astounding eyes; his disorderly locks; his rosy cheeks; his lips swollen from kissing hers; she felt the sight of every part of him becoming entrenched into her very skin.

She would remember Frodo, with or without the Blood, she swore to herself with a fervor that brought heat to her cheeks.

Suddenly, she caught sight of his right forearm, which was still wrapped in bandage. She took hold of his right hand and brought it to her lips.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked against his knuckles.

"Not anymore," he answered with a small smile.

Her grey eyes searched his. "I'm so sorry, love."

"None of that now. No more apologies permitted," Frodo said in gentle rebuttal.

Allie inspired deeply and trailed her fingers across his eyes, his lips and his cheek, marveling at the sensation of him on her very fingertips. Her hand finished its exploring journey down his neck and came in contact with the half-moon pendant hanging from its new chain. She closed her hand around it and gently tugged until Frodo's face was an inch from hers.

Smiling up at him, she whispered: "I want you, Frodo. All of you. Will you be mine?"

Frodo returned the smile. "You know that I already am."

She tugged on the chain a little more until their lips met. Then, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a close embrace until their bodies were flush against each other's.

The rain clattered softly against the unique windowpane of the hut as Frodo and Allie made love to each another. Her soft moans, the rounded curve of her bare shoulder, the delicious pain in his back as her nails dug into his skin when she came undone beneath him were but fragments of a whole of that night.

When she finally called out his name and all barriers fell between them as they became one, a feeling of euphoria, elation and rush such as he had never known filled him up from the inside like a fireball and then exploded out of every pore of his body, leaving him breathless and spent as he lay panting next to her with his heart knocking against his ribs.

He had not noticed they had knocked over the pile of wool beside them until he found themselves buried in pieces of entangled wool as white as snow. Allie laughed breathlessly beside him as she gathered them around herself like a blanket. Frodo rolled off her and to the side, but kept his head nestled against her chest, feeling at peace with the world as the regular beat of her heart played in his ear.

Allie caressed his hair tenderly and placed a small kiss on top of his head.

"Are you going to fall asleep?" Frodo's sleepy voice drifted to her after a while.

After a few more breaths, Allie snatched herself away from slumber. "Why?" she mumbled with a smile without opening her eyes. "You want to do it again?"

Frodo remained silent.

Allie pried her eyes open and lifted her head to look down into his face, wondering if he seriously wanted to go at it again.

But Frodo's eyes were closed and his breathing was even. She suppressed a laugh when she realized he'd already fallen asleep. His head resting on her chest was a warm and reassuring weight.

She brushed his hair back from his face with love and then hugged him to her as she closed her eyes.

The raindrops hitting the windowpane of their hut soon became a gentle lullaby that enveloped them both.

A few meters from where Frodo and Allie lay sleeping with their limbs intertwined on their makeshift bed, the phial of Galadriel gave off a soft blue light from within Allie's discarded vest.

* * *

Well, that was the longest chapter to date, by far! I figured I should at least do this much since I have made you wait for so long. It's so crazy right now, I have like 6 projects at the same time at school. I think my teachers are all conspiring to kill us :/

Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed the fluff! And leave me comments as usual, thanks! :)

**Uchiha no Kaori:** Yep! :) More fluff in this episode as well hehehe, I hope you enjoyed :p I thought about you as I wrote this.

**daughterofthering:** Glad to hear from you again :D aww thank you! I always try to be as descriptive as I can so that I can bring to life the scenes that I see in my head. Thanks for the compliments, glad to see it's working :)

**allonsylotr:** haha yeah, I totally missed writing about Allie being back with Frodo. Thanks so much for the comment!

**Mallory:** Really glad to hear from you again :D Aww, I am truly happy that this is a fanfic you can always come back to. I know it's not obvious when the wait is so long in between chapters. I know it's not easy to get back in the flow of the story or to remember what is at stake, so it means a lot to me that you are still following this story. Yes, that modern language always kicks me in the butt. I'm always trying to double check for that, but thanks for picking them up. I've been doing lots of modifications to my earlier chapters at the same time as writing new material. Some of my earlier chapters were pretty shitty, I must admit haha. Mmm, ok that "approach" comment is useful. I'll try to watch out for that as well, and correct those that I see in past chaps. It's true that approaching his hand to her face doesnt make sense lol. Holy shit, has it really been 2 years already? When you put it like that, it really makes me feel blessed that you are still reading this. I would have probably ditched it if I had been in your place lolll. Anyway, enjoy your senior year of high school. That's the best year, imo! :D And there's the prom, of course!

**Call Brandybuck:** yay! I missed hearing from you :) First of all, I must say that this chapter is here today because of you. I have been slacking off and having writers' block because I've been so busy, but I must say your review was inspirational to say the least. It was like seeing the light or something lol. Well, to put it this way, it's always so nice to hear how my writing can bring such emotions and joy to my readers. It's not something that a writer always realizes when he/she is so immersed in all the plotting and technicalities and all that, so I'm truly glad I could touch at least a few people. Yeah, that scene with Frodo and the Gondorian people was powerful to me too as I wrote it. I must say it has been quite an experience to write about his character growth. Like they say, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. haha yeah, when Merry came to disrupt Frodo and Allie, it was pretty bad. But oh well, they made up for that later. And even more so in this chapter *winks*. Hope you enjoyed! :D


	51. Linked by Blood

**Linked by Blood**

Gritt stood at the prow of the main pirate ship with his heart in his throat. The company of black ships was silently sailing on the Anduin, past the ruins of what had once been the White City of Minas Tirith, the house of the Kings of old. Whatever remained of the citadel was now a rubble of blackened stone against the side of the mountain. Some parts were still smoking, and the stench of death and decay coated the air. Flies swarm amidst the poisonous fumes, sometimes settling on a rotten face or hand, fighting with the maggots for a piece of dead flesh.

One section of the ruins of Minas Tirith was darker than the rest, as though a shadow lay upon it even though there was no obvious source. Gritt saw a red glint amidst the shadow and cold fear gripped his heart at the sight of it, making him deviate his eyes before the evil entity casting that darkness could sense his gaze.

"Would you look at that…" a voice resounded near him, made hoarse by sickened disbelief.

Gritt turned to his side and saw the set jaw of Dragut, the sword master that his father had imposed on him ever since he had been brought on board of the ship. Dragut was a giant amidst men, measuring almost seven feet tall, all muscle and no hair except for a black beard that covered a large scar on the left side of his cheek, a reminder of a sword cut so deep that it had sliced off part of his jaw, revealing the gum underneath. Needless to say, the one who had inflicted that wound upon him had long become a feast for the worms.

Gritt had never seen that look on Dragut's face before; the look which said that even the bulky pirate was humbled by the sight of the destruction all around them.

What used to be the Pelennor Fields was now a sea of black tents and red flames, housing Sauron's army of Orcs, Goblins, Easterlings and trolls. Siege engines were scattered amidst the tents, silent and ominous, their wooden structures reaching up towards the dark skies like so many pleading arms.

The Orcs were all sat around large campfires, roasting the flesh of the men they had killed, and laughing their guttural laughs as they swatted the flies away from their food.

The stench of burned meat suddenly made Gritt retch. He bent over the railings just in time to vomit into the river.

An Orc looked up at the splashing sound, but looked away again when he encountered the dark glare of Urithor who had quietly walked up to stand beside his son.

"Look well, Gritt," he said in a whisper from beside the boy, startling him. "This is our enemy. Study their numbers, their habits, their formation, the weapons they use. Look at everything and omit nothing. That is the only way you will have a slim chance at winning."

Gritt felt a sickening feeling rise within him. "We are going to fight these monsters?" He turned furious green eyes towards Urithor's impassive face. "I am looking, father. And what I see is telling me is that there is no way we can win against them! Not with our numbers. No even with ten thousand! Have you seen the shadow dwelling in the ruins? And those dark beasts that fly over us again and again! There is no army in this world that can win against _that_!"

Suddenly, Urithor's hand was at his neck, pinning his face against the railing. His grip had a vise-like quality to it, cold and hard like a steel collar. Urithor slowly lowered his head to whisper in the boy's ear: "When you don't have the numbers, you have to fight smart. Why don't you stop whining and start using your brains? How indeed would we win against this monster of an army? Before the ships reach the city of Osgiliath, or at least what remains of it, tell me your answer."

Gritt turned two terrified eyes upon him with his cheek against the moist wood of the railing. Urithor smiled at him. A smile without humor, without warmth. "I will be expecting something good."

His smile faded, suddenly replaced with a grimace. He jerked away from Gritt and started walking away.

"Captain?" Dragut called.

"What?" Urithor hissed in a slightly deeper voice.

"What will our course be after Osgiliath?"

Gritt looked at his father's back. Urithor had kept the crew in the dark about their ultimate destination. All they knew was that they had to pretend to still be on Sauron's side as they sailed through Minas Tirith and Osgiliath.

"After Osgiliath," Urithor said, "we continue till Cair Andros and turn left onto the Entwash."

"That is West," Dragut pondered, and then his eyes narrowed with understanding. "Rohan," he muttered under his beard.

Urithor turned slightly to look back at them both and Gritt was aghast at the sight of his father's eye glinting. "Do not do anything stupid before we reach that tributary," the pirate ordered grimly. "Do not attract their attention onto us. If they ask you questions, answer as I have instructed."

With that said, he left with a swing of his black cape.

After that, the fleet of Corsair ships slowly glided up stream, passing by rows upon rows of black, shredded tents, but none of the Orcs celebrating their gruesome victory paid them much heed. After being cursed at for showing up late by one of the Orc leaders near the ruins of Minas Tirith, they had been left alone.

Gritt returned to his cabin and sat on his bed, shaking from head to toes. He did not know what his father expected of him. He cursed at himself for not having ran away at the port of Pelargir that they had left behind two days ago. Now, the ships have sailed straight into hell. Now, there was no longer a way out.

There was a knock on the door and Gritt's head jerked up.

"What?" he called out nervously.

"It is me," came to him Errol's voice. Errol was the second in command working under his father.

Before Gritt could answer, Errol pushed the door open and stepped in. He stood a moment in the entrance, studying the boy sitting on his bunk, and then let out a sigh. He took out a roll of parchment from within his coat and slapped it into Gritt's hand.

"It's a map, boy. Your father says you'll need it for the task he gave you."

Gritt unrolled it slowly and stared down at the map of Middle-earth he held in his hands. The paper was yellow and old, seemingly ready to fall to pieces at the slightest misuse. Gritt almost wished it would just turn to ashes in his very hands so that he would not need to look at it.

He did not look up when Errol sank his heavy mass onto the bed next to him.

"I know you don't want to be here, boy," he grumbled. "But I would not cross your father if I were you."

Gritt looked away. "What he wants me to be, what he expects of me, is impossible."

Errol sighed. "These are dark times, Gritt. I think he would not have come for you if he had a choice. He cares about you. In his own way."

Gritt's eyes were burning when he looked at the second in command. "He does not care about me! I don't even know what he cares about! Why would he willingly walk into this war? The pirates could have stayed out of this!"

Errol slowly shook his bearded head. "We were already a part of this before your father came back. Our previous leader was an ally of Sauron, and as such Sauron would have expected us to fight for him. If your father had not returned, we would have been right there alongside the Orcs, celebrating the destruction of Minas Tirith."

Seeing understanding slowly settle onto Gritt's face, he added: "Sauron does not treat well those who betray him."

The boy looked away and whispered: "Is that not what we are doing right now? Betraying him?"

Errol snorted a humorless laugh at that. "Yes, but he does not know it yet. When he does, his retribution will be terrible."

He turned towards the boy and put a hand on his shoulder. "But I would rather chance that than be a part of that carnage. We have been enemies of Gondor for as long as I can remember, but what has become of them, I would not wish it on my worst enemy. Your father is the rightful leader of the Corsairs, Gritt. Long ago, he was betrayed by the late King, which has resulted in the death of your mother. We thought both you and your father had perished following that skirmish, but against all odds he has come back, and so have you. The Castamiri line will live on, son, and that is why your father brought you with him."

Gritt wanted to retort something back, but seeing the solemn look in Errol's brown eyes, no words came. He looked down at the map in his hands dejectedly. "It is just… I am not who he thinks I am. What he asks of me is impossible. I don't know how to be a leader. I don't know anything about fighting or warfare!"

Errol stood up. "You don't know that. Because you haven't tried."

Gritt didn't say anything until he heard the door close behind Errol. Then, slowly, he unrolled the map and pinned it to the table by placing books on its corners to keep it flat.

He studied it, thinking about how to win against Sauron's numbers, thinking about why the fleet was headed for Rohan. There could only be one answer to that: his father must think they had allies there.

Suddenly, the floor lurched under his feet as the ship jerked to an abrupt halt. Rough voices rose outside and Gritt sprinted out of his cabin and onto the deck.

The ten ships of the Corsair fleet had stopped. The sound of the black sails flapping against the poles almost drowned the sounds of the exchange coming from the port side.

"We will be docking further North on the Anduin," his father's authoritative voice reached his ears.

Gritt sneaked closer with his back to a barrel and then crouched down to peak. He saw his father's back standing fifteen feet away. He was talking to someone on the ground.

He leaned a bit further and managed to make out the ruined city of Osgiliath, broken and wrecked, its only tower reduced to dust. In the foreground there was a disfigured Orc standing on the shore. He was lame and a deep and sunken hole stood where one of his eyes should have been. His other eye, however, was working well to show his suspicion. Other Orcs under his command were holding onto the ropes of their ship, preventing it from sailing away.

The one-eyed Orc hobbled closer and sneered at Urithor's words. "Why do you need to go so far up the river? This area is perfectly fine for docking." He spat to one side.

Urithor slowly looked right to left. "By this area, do you mean these streets filled with Orc filth and decaying bodies? We will dock where I see fit and nowhere else."

No one missed the threat in his voice.

The Orc narrowed his remaining eye. "Who are you? You are not the King we usually deal with."

"He and I had a difference of opinion on our little journey upriver," Urithor simply said. Gritt could almost see the smile that accompanied those words. "So you will have to contend with me now."

The Orc grumbled something to one his minions, who then started climbing the rope to embark onto the ship. Gritt pressed himself a little tighter against the barrel, his heart thumping.

The Orc soon met his demise, however, when he impaled himself upon Dragut's axe. "No one boards without permission from the captain," the giant growled in a rumbling voice, his eyebrows furrowed in dark menace.

The gnarled Orc's mouth twitched when the body of his minion fell back into the river with a splash. All the Orcs behind him drew their swords with screams of anger. Their leader lifted one gnarled fist to hold them back. "We will need to inspect those ships of yours before we allow you further passage. These lands are now territory of Sauron the Great," he hissed.

Gritt heard a creaking and turned to look at one piece of floorboard in front of him moving up by an inch. His eyes met with vertical pupils shining from the darkness. He knew his father's wolves were hiding underneath the ship; he did not dare imagine what would happen if they were discovered. However, the shiny eyes staring back at him seemed to whisper promises of carnage and destruction if the need arose.

Gritt pressed a finger to his lips and the eyes disappeared. The boy reported his attention back to his father.

"Sauron the Great," Urithor agreed amiably. "We might fight under the same banner, Orc, but that does not mean you and I are friends. I don't know what your relationship with the previous King was, but my policy is that no stinking Orc filth will be allowed on board of my vessels. Now, you can either let us pass, or we can settle it right here and right now, killing each other until Sauron himself comes to pass judgment on who is right and who is wrong. Would you like that, Orc?"

The eye of the Orc slowly swept across the fierce faces of all the pirates whose hands had all inked closer to their weapons. Those on the other ships had done the same. The one-eyed Orc knew that if he called upon all the Orcs stationed in Osgiliath, their numbers would surely allow them to turn the river red with the blood of the pirates. However, if Sauron heard about this on the eve of setting out for Rohan, he could not guarantee his head would be safe.

Swallowing back his rage, he spat to the side once more and signalled to the Orcs to back off. "Don't you think this is over, pirate!" He directed one last look full of hatred towards Urithor before limping away.

Gritt let out a sigh of relief when he heard the he-ho of the pirates as they worked the paddles to make the ship start advancing once more. The other black ships followed, with the banner of the black wolf once more flapping in the river wind.

Soon, the ruins of Osgiliath slowly started to fade away behind them.

Gritt slowly stood up from behind the barrel and walked to starboard to lean against the railing. The wind blew against his hair as he watched the wrecked city become smaller and smaller.

A crash behind him suddenly made him twirl around. He saw his father on his knees amidst a pile of boxes that he had knocked down as he fell. He was gripping his arms tightly as ragged breaths escaped his mouth.

"Father!"

Gritt ran to him and let himself fall on his knees beside him. He reached out to him, but Urithor slapped his hand away. His father's eyes were shining like those of the wolf under the floorboard.

"Stay away!" he hissed through teeth that were longer and sharper than Gritt remembered them being. Thick black fur had also started to cover the back of his hands.

"What is happening?" Gritt let out in a panic.

"Keep quiet," Urithor hissed.

After a moment, his breathing returned to normal. The fur had receded, and his eyes were no longer brimming. Urithor slowly pushed his black hair away from his face and sat back against one of the boxes with his eyes directed at the black skies overhead.

Gritt hesitated, and then sat beside him. He was working up his courage to ask his father how much more time he had left before he reverted back to being a wolf for good, but Urithor spoke first.

"Your answer?" he asked.

Gritt blinked. "What?"

Two coal-colored eyes settled on him. "Your answer to the question I asked you earlier, Gritt. How would you defeat an army of this size?"

"I…" Gritt struggled for an intelligent answer, but could not think of anything. "I'm sorry, father. I was looking at the map, but then there was that commotion…"

He cut himself off when his father stood up and walked away without a word, leaving him sitting there by himself. Shame and anger rose within him. He told himself it had been an impossible task from the start; that he didn't care whether he disappointed that man, but why was there a pressure inside his chest that made him want to scream?

Full of anger, he stomped back to the railing and hoped the wind could blow him away from this place, from this ill fate of his. Why couldn't he have been the son of fishermen like he'd always believed he was? He could have been back home, casting nets with the man he'd been calling father for the past sixteen years. He missed him, and he missed his mother too.

He was scanning the waters with an empty gaze when something caught his attention. He squinted, and then swiftly ran to the back of the ship, past the sailors who were working the paddles.

Leaning against the rails, he looked again. And there was no mistake what he saw. There was a hollow tree trunk caught in the weed of the shore, and inside that trunk there was a man. Several arrows protruded from his chest, but he was still alive as he weakly held onto a handful of grass to avoid flowing away downriver towards Osgiliath.

Gritt looked back at the pirates and saw that no one had noticed him; or if they did, they did not plan on doing anything.

Biting his lip, he ran to the boat bound to the rear of the ship and produced a small knife from his pocket, which he used to cut away the ropes. When the ropes gave way, the boat fell down onto the river with a splash. The sound made one of the pirates come running.

"Hey!" he yelled. "What was that?"

Gritt jumped over board and landed inside the boat with a clunk. He hissed in pain at bumping his shin, but then quickly seized the paddle and started paddling away from the ship and towards the injured man in the tree trunk.

"Hey! Hey!" the pirate was yelling after him. "Come back here!"

Gritt ignored the cries that were now arising from the other ships as well. He paddled until a sweat broke down on his brow and down his back. Finally, he reached the shore. He jumped out of the boat and into shallow water and pulled the boat up onto the shore.

Then, he ran towards the man and knelt in the mud beside him.

The man was covered in blood from head to toes, and half of his face was bruised. "Hold on. Let me help you!" Gritt told him frantically, although he was unsure how to even begin.

He started by pulling the trunk further up the shore to anchor it better in the weed. Then, he returned to the man and crouched down. "Can you move? You need to get out of here first!"

The man tried to say something, but only small bloody bubbles came out of his mouth. Gritt pressed in closer. "What? What are you saying?"

The man's good eye opened a slight, full of suffering. "Go," he whispered so low Gritt had to press his ear against his mouth to hear him. "Trap."

"You're trapped? Let me see…"

"Go!" The man spoke a bit louder, and then coughed.

A cackle suddenly made Gritt twirl around and fall on his behind. He found himself looking at a full circle of laughing Orcs. Incomprehension and fear twisted his guts. What were Orcs doing here? Suddenly, the real meaning of the man's words struck him. All this was a trap? But how…

Before his thoughts could run further, the Orcs were charging towards him. He let out a wild cry and scurried behind the trunk with his feet into the water. The Orcs divided into two lines and came at him from both sides. He backed away further into the river and then started swimming back towards the ships. One of the Orcs seized his ankle and pulled him under.

Gritt held his breath and twisted around until he came face to face with the Orc's gruesome figure under the water. His fingers gained hold of the small knife in his pocket and he stuck it in the Orc's eye. The hold around his ankle slackened and he kicked his way up to the surface, screaming and choking.

He heard his name being called over the sound of water lapping at his ears. A terrifying and sizzling sound suddenly filled the air and he arched his head just in time to see a ball of orange light crossing the space above the waters to fall onto one of his father's ships.

The fire spread almost instantly; screamed commands and sizzling wood accompanied the waves in the water created by the splashing of bodies falling into the river. A wind carrying smoke and heat blew against Gritt's face as the ship burst into flames and slowly started to sink.

Strong arms suddenly seized Gritt under the armpits and elevated him out of the water. He found himself staring up at Dragut's dark face. The man threw him onto the boat next to him like a rag doll and then started paddling back towards the mother ship.

Gritt looked back and felt his breath catch in his throat at the battle that had broke out upon the shores. Five ships had accosted and the pirates were engaging the legion of Orcs that seemed to have appeared out of the tall weeds.

The man had said that this was all a trap. The Orcs must have been hiding there in ambush, just waiting for someone to discover that poor man? It didn't make any sense to Gritt until he saw the one-eyed Orc watching from a distance with a smirk on his face. Slowly, his unique eye rested on Gritt gripping the border of the boat.

His ugly smirk widened and he gave Gritt a small nod, which made the boy feel sick to his stomach. The Orc must have suspected his father to be a betrayer, and now Gritt running to save a man just confirmed those suspicions. What had he done?

On board of the ships that had stayed in the middle of the river, pirates with longbows were shooting arrows at the legions of Orcs coming at them. Urithor's ship also touched shore, and dark wolf shapes leapt out of it to land amidst the Orcs like a whirlwind of fangs and claws.

Their small boat collided against the flank of the main ship and Dragut made him climb up a ladder until he was on board the mother ship once more. Then, without a word, Dragut seized his curved blade and jumped down onto the shore to engage in battle beside Urithor himself.

Gritt watched his father fight, dark and deadly, each of his swings finding a head or a chest or a limb. And all the while, there was this smile on his face, as though there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

One of the Orcs blew a horn before being stricken down by an arrow. The engine that had thrown the fire ball which had taken down one of the ships was being rewound again. Gritt watched all of this with his heart in his throat, knowing that none of this would have happened if he had just let that man, that perfect stranger, alone.

His father was fighting in a circle of enemies now, going in deeper and deeper.

"Father!" he called out anxiously, but his voice was lost in the raging sounds of war. His eyes spotted a dark spot approaching from the direction of Minas Tirith, and fear gripped his bones when he realized what it was.

A Nazgul.

Was he going to die here? When he hadn't even proven himself to his father even once? Before he knew it, his hand had found a sword and he was jumping off the ship and onto the mud of the shore.

Zigzagging amongst the fallen bodies, he made a beeline towards Urithor and planted his sword in the back of the Orc who was sneaking towards his father's back.

Urithor twirled around when he heard the Orc's dying moan. He smiled at Gritt then, a ferocious smile, a wolf smile, but a smile nonetheless, and for just a second, Gritt found himself grinning back.

But then their enemies were upon them, and Gritt lost himself in his first taste of war. The vibrations in the blade as it cut through muscle and bone, the hot and viscous sensation of fresh blood on his hand, the smell of smoke and destruction in his nostrils; he took them all in and suddenly the world as he saw it gained a new edge, a new focus, as though he had come awake from a long dream.

There was a grunt to his side and he saw Urithor falling to the ground with an arrow to his side. His eyes widened in horror and fury. "Father!"

Before he could run to him, a wild scream full of rage escaped his father's lips. Urithor's eyes were glinting more than ever as he climbed back on his feet and looked around to find the archer. He spotted the Orc holding the crossbow a few feet back, standing beside the one-eyed Orc, safe behind a line of enemies.

Urithor seized the arrow and broke it. Discarding the broken shaft onto the ground, he gripped an axe and dashed towards the enemy line.

"No! Father!" Gritt screamed after him, before being pushed back by the attack of an Orc.

Gritt killed him with a wild scream of anger. Why was his father so reckless? Why was he running towards certain death? Gritt needed him; no matter how cruel he seemed, no matter how cold he was towards him, Gritt still wanted his respect and approval, for Urithor was his father and they were linked by blood.

Just when Gritt thought the Orcs would overpower the charging pirate, the transformation happened.

In midstride as he charged, Urithor's shape exploded outwards in a way that Gritt could not describe; then, in place of the man there was now a black beast with cold yellow eyes. A howl erupted out of his throat, a howl that chilled Gritt to his very bones. The wolf charged through the line of Orcs, shredding them to pieces. And then he had his claw through the archer's chest.

The other wolves answered to his howl with haunting howls of their own. One of the wolves bit off the head of the Orc working the fireball engine while another zoomed past Gritt to kill the Orc who had been sneaking up on him as he watched his father with his mouth ajar.

A deep rumble brought Gritt back to the present and he saw the one-eyed Orc running towards him, dragging his bad leg behind him as the black wolf gave him pursuit.

The Orc's unique eye zeroed in on Gritt and he started heading straight towards the stunned boy. Gritt ground his teeth and lifted his sword to be at the ready. The Orc's gnarled and disfigured face twisted into a heinous sneer as he lifted his heavy axe and threw it at the boy.

The axe turned on itself in the air as it cut across the distance between them at a frightening speed. Gritt tried to avoid it but he never had a chance. He let out a wretched scream when the blade of the axe cleaved straight through his wrist. He watched in horror as his own hand fell to the ground in front of him, still tightly gripping sword. A gush of red spurted out of the wound, splashing onto his own face.

He screamed again as the one-eyed Orc threw himself on him and threw them both to the ground. As though from far away, the boy saw the black wolf – his father – dig his forepaws into the Orc's legs to drag him away. The Orc let out a guttural cry as Informant then proceeded to rip off both of his legs.

Gritt slowly sat up, holding his bleeding stump against his chest, and saw the black wolf looking at him with those yellow eyes of his. His father's eyes were the expressive eyes he had ever seen and the naked feelings written in them made the pain in his stump somewhat more bearable. He saw what his father wanted of him then, and he was aghast to realize that it was also what _he_ wanted to do, deep down.

With a grunt of pain, Gritt used his left hand to pry the sword away from his severed right hand and crawled towards the screaming Orc laying under Informant's paws.

"You… bastard…" he grunted with hatred in his jaded eyes as he lifted the blade and thrust it through the Orc's head via his remaining eye.

The Orc twitched and then lay still.

Gasping for breath, Gritt held his stump again and bent over in pain. From far away, distant howls resounded in his ears, seemingly floating closer and closer by the second.

It sounded like a sea of wolves coming.

A raspy tongue on his cheek made him look up into the black wolf's yellow eyes.

"Father," Gritt managed to say through a vision that was beginning to blur. "Did I… did I do well?"

For only answer, he felt the wolf's tongue on his stump and a burning pain exploded behind his eyes, making everything turn black.

Informant licked his son's wound until it stopped bleeding. When he finally looked up, he saw the remaining Orcs running away as several packs of wolves chased after them. In the sky, but too far up to be a threat, a single Nazgul circled over the scene below.

"Any hope of masking this as a regular skirmish between Orcs and pirates is now forfeit due to our presence," a deep voice Informant hadn't heard in a long time resounded at his ears.

He looked over his shoulder and saw the giant shape of Hunter slowly advancing amidst the dead bodies. Beside him, lithe and lean, was the auburn wolf Pippin.

"Well, well, look who is back from the dead," he said with his usual grin.

"Speak for yourself," Hunter grunted. "I never intended to die in the first place."

"Now how did you survive the war at Minas Tirith? You were in the heat of the battle, yes?"

Hunter's blue eye narrowed. "I chose to retreat when it was clear that the Men were not going to win," he announced curtly.

Informant sneered at that, knowing full well what a blow that was for Hunter's ego.

"So, what are we doing about him?" Pippin asked as he directed his nose towards the circling Nazgul.

"Nothing," Informant retorted. "We go back on the ships and proceed as planned. We will go down the Entwash and then onto the Snowbourn River. We will be in Rohan in three days time. Even if our cover is blown now, it is too late for Sauron to send any foot soldiers after us."

Pippin was not impressed with this plan. "And if he sends the Nazgul?"

Informant's eyes narrowed. "Then we will have a problem. If that happens, I will send a pack of recruits to Rohan to go fetch that White Wizard so that he can help us. For now, we retreat to the ships!"

"No need," Pippin retorted. "My unit and I will run to Edoras right away to warn them of your arrival."

Informant stepped away from them both. "Suit yourself."

The pirates saw the wolves from Informant's unit retreating back towards the ships and started doing the same. Dragut approached carefully, bloody from head to toes, and exchanged a glance with Informant. The black wolf signalled to the unconscious boy before walking away. Dragut knelt and carefully carried Gritt up in his arms.

He froze when he saw Pippin barring his route. The auburn wolf came close to sniff at the boy. "Informant! This is your son?" he exclaimed in disbelief.

Gritt looked pale and young in Dragut's arms. One yellow eye looked back at Pippin. "Your point?"

Pippin's green eyes focused on him. "Oh, he just looks so innocent and so… different from you."

Informant thought back to the expression on Gritt's face when he had thrust that blade through the Orc's eye, and served his best wolf smile to Pippin. "Not as different as you think. He has the heart of a pirate."

"What about this Man?" Hunter spoke back from beside the man still lying within the tree trunk, now unconscious.

A hateful expression entered Informant's eyes. "I lost a ship and several good pirates because of this man. Leave him."

He still couldn't believe how shrewd that one-eyed bastard had been, planting one of their war prisoners by the river to test the pirates' loyalty. If only Gritt hadn't been submerged by foolish feelings of pity, none of this would have happened.

"No," Hunter's voice cut through his thoughts. "We are not leaving this man here. He is Faramir, the captain of guards at Minas Tirith. He is coming with us." His tone bore no ground for discussion.

Informant and Hunter stood staring at each other for a long time, before the black wolf turned tails and walked away. "Suit yourself," he repeated.

Pippin peered down at Faramir's body. "Well, then you better be quick or he's not going to last very long."

Hunter closed his teeth around Faramir's punctured chainmail and dragged him out of the tree trunk. Then, he picked the man off the ground and dropped it onto one of his wolves' back. "Bring him to the ship," he instructed.

The wolf nodded and trod away.

Hunter turned towards Pippin. "I will be going with Informant. Faramir's wounds need to be cleaned with wolf saliva. Unfortunately, some of them have been inflicted by a cursed blade, so I don't know how long he can last without that herb."

"Kingsfoil," Pippin nodded. "Councillor told us Aragorn is in Edoras. He will know what to do to help."

Hunter nodded before jumping onto the deck, making the ship dip slightly due to his size. "Make haste to Edoras, Pippin."

His blue eye met Pippin's green ones. "And let me know how she is faring."

Pippin didn't need to ask who she was. Allie had been heavy on both of their minds since their paths had crossed again.

* * *

Allie's brow scrunched up when a ray of sun fell directly in her eyes. She shifted and rested her forearms over her eyes, feeling lethargic and slow as though she had just awoken from a long hibernation. She didn't remember the last time she had slept this well, without dreams to disturb her night.

A strong smell of sheep invaded her nostrils as she shifted, and suddenly she remembered where she was. A smile stretched on her lips as she opened her eyes and saw the wool all around her.

"It's like clouds," she muttered groggily as she sank her fingers into it. "Clouds on earth."

Frodo was still fast asleep next to her, lying on his stomach with one arm over his head. She quietly turned towards him until she was lying on her side with her head cushioned on her elbow. He let out a small sleepy sound but did not wake up. There was wool caught in his hair and in the crook of his bent elbow. She quietly picked up them up with light fingers and removed them.

Then, she let her palm rest against his bare back, feeling for the rising and falling of his chest. Frodo muttered something but did not wake up.

She smiled tenderly. "You have always been a sleepyhead, Frodo."

The position of the sun in the sky told her that it was still early dawn. She tried to go back to sleep herself, but it eluded her. She found herself thinking that there were only two days left until the first phase of the Ent water ended, as she had come to think of it.

Should she drink the water again right away or save it for later? Sauron would be coming, but it could be in weeks or even months.

_Or it could be tomorrow_, the voices in her head said.

She tensed for a split second, and then slowly relaxed. She had almost grown accustomed to the voices now. Perhaps they would never go away now that they have set their roots inside her mind. She couldn't determine whether they were vestiges of the Saruman's Spell, or her own inner voice mocking her.

She found herself missing her wolves. Where were Hunter and Pippin? And even Informant? For the Corsair ships to reach Rohan, they would have to cross Gondor. Would they be safe? Sam had said the wolves saw her as their mother, and although she had never thought about it in that way before, she was surprised at how easily she was willing to endorse that role. All of them, with their distinct personalities and with their dreams from another lifetime, were indeed like children who have yet to leave the family nest.

She wished she could free them and let the time that had frozen for them ever since they had become wolves resume again. But would making the Blood leave really be a blessing? They might lose their old selves forever instead of being set free.

Frodo let out a groan and she reported her attention back to him. His face was no longer peaceful now; he was frowning and a sheen of sweat had broken on his brow.

Allie slowly went up on her elbow and gently shook Frodo's back. "Frodo?"

Frodo did not wake up, seemingly in the grips of some nightmare. His hand suddenly clenched into a fist and he turned away from Allie until he was lying on his back.

"No," he muttered as he shook his head. "No."

"Hey," Allie slowly closed her hand around his fist and shook him gently. "Frodo. Wake up!"

Frodo's eyes suddenly flew open and he looked around frantically until his eyes fell on Allie's concerned face.

"Allie?" he asked, disoriented.

She edged closer and ran an appeasing hand through his hair. "You were having a bad dream. It was just a bad dream."

Frodo took in a deep breath at that and grunted with a hand to his eyes. Allie lied down next to him and draped her arm across his chest. "What did you dream about?"

Frodo looked out the window for a second before turning his head and pressing his lips against her forehead. "It was nothing. I don't even remember anymore."

Allie thought that wasn't true, but she didn't press him. She knew all too well what it felt like to have nightmares that one was not willing to talk about. That suddenly made her recall the images from Galadriel's mirror. Her father in the cave, her evil smile as the Uruk-hai stood behind her with Serecor on his finger, and…

"The white wheel," she whispered.

Frodo turned towards her. "What?"

"Do you remember when I told you about what I had seen in Galadriel's mirror? The white wheel made the mirror break."

A shiver ran through her. "She told me then that the mirror can only show things that are of this world. The white wheel does not belong to this world, and that is why the mirror broke."

Frodo slowly propped himself up on his elbow. "I know what you are thinking, Allie, but you are not going to die. I will not let that happen!"

She blinked and then shook her head. "I don't think it means that I am going to die, Frodo. Galadriel also told me that the mirror does not show death. I just… I just wonder what it means. Are there other worlds out there? Because under that white wheel, we were happy, you and I."

Frodo sat up, making the wool fall down to his lap as he did so. Allie stayed on her back, looking up at the ceiling where a spider was slowly spinning its web.

"Are you saying there is a way to escape our fate?" Frodo finally asked.

Allie stared absent-mindedly at his bare back. "I don't know. I just know that if there really is a way, I would have wanted to find it."

Frodo looked up from his lap when he felt her sitting up behind him and resting her forehead against his shoulder. "I was ready to give it all up," she said from behind him, "but last night, what you and I shared, it made me feel alive, Frodo. Before, I have only felt like that when I was a wolf. The first time my transformation took place, the first time I sang to the moon with the pack, the first time I made a kill… those moments made me feel real, in tune with every fibre of my being. But last night, for the first time, I felt that kind of exhilaration as a hobbit. Lately, I have come to feel more and more as though my wolf body is the real one and my hobbit body a mere illusion. Perhaps that is true now, but still, it was wonderful to feel that the hobbit part of me has not yet completely died."

She slowly wrapped her arms around him. "After last night… I don't know, Frodo. Maybe I have grown greedy, but getting a taste of true happiness now, of all times, seems so unfair."

She took in a shuddering breath and then let it go at the same time as she let him go. "I know it is a selfish thing to say, but will you not allow me to be selfish at least once?"

She pushed up from the bed and started to get dressed. "Rest assured, though. Even if there is some meaning to that white wheel, I don't have time to go looking for it. Not with the war so close."

"You should go," Frodo suddenly spoke up from his sitting position.

Allie froze in her motion of putting her trousers on. She turned towards him and was surprised to see him smiling up at her.

"Maybe you should go looking for the meaning of the white wheel, Allie," Frodo repeated gently with downcast eyes.

Allie frowned, expecting him to add that he was joking, but his expression remained serious. In two steps she was in front of him. "And leave all of you here to fight against Sauron?" she asked in utmost disbelief. "I only said it as a selfish wish, but I would never carry through with it! I can't believe that you seriously thought I would ever abandon you to face this alone!"

Frodo stood up and started dressing himself as well while Allie waited in silent disbelief.

When he was done putting on his armor, he walked to the window and rested both hands on the old wood as he peered outside at the green plains. "_My_ selfish wish, Allie, is for you to stay out of this war," he finally confessed.

She passed a hand through her wild curls. "I was wondering when you would tell me that. Merry and Sam have both given me long lectures already."

He turned towards her. "But just like you, I know it is only a selfish wish, and although I am serious in my desire, I will not force you to carry through with it."

He smiled at a little at her baffled look. "My mind knows that you will never go on some wild chase for a white wheel. I know that you will fight by my side, by the side of the Fellowship, and that is why I didn't try to convince you otherwise after the meeting with King Theoden. I know all of that, and yet in my heart, I ardently wish you would stay out of all this."

She leaned on the windowsill beside him and leaned her shoulder against his. "I know, Frodo. But we are going to fight together. That is the only path."

She said it in a dejected tone, as though she had long resigned herself to this upcoming calamity.

Keeping his eyes strained to the plains outside, Frodo started softly: "In the caves under the mountains, Sam told me that he never wanted to be a hero; that all he wanted was to go back to the Shire and live out the rest of his life with the folk he loves."

He looked at Allie, and Allie looked back at him with wide eyes.

"I think we understand Sam's heart better than anyone, Allie. But for Sam, and our other friends, to live normal lives as normal hobbits in a normal place, someone else has to be a hero. And whether we want to or not, we have to be those heroes, Allie. Call it destiny or sense of moral duty, but we are the Ring-bearer and the Queen of wolves. Nothing can no longer change that, so it is time that we assume those roles and the responsibilities that come with them. We can see all of this as a curse or we can see it as a blessing."

Allie felt stunned by his words; he had never spoken like that before.

Frodo took her hand. "I want to save this world. No matter how much pain and ugliness surrounds us, there is beauty still. For starters, it is the place where I met you, and that is something to be thankful for, don't you think?"

Allie studied him for a little more, and then slowly smiled a real smile that lit up her entire face.

"You are right, Frodo. You are so right!" she exclaimed as she took hold of his hands with renewed passion. "I, too, want to save this world. If we are fated to be heroes, then let us be the best heroes Middle-earth has ever known!"

_The ultimate sacrifice_, the voices whispered.

Allie ignored them, for Frodo was grinning at her tenderly. He patted her head in approval. "That's my lass."

She took his hand. "It is time to go back. The others must be wondering where we have been. Also, today is the day of the second meeting with King Theoden."

She rearranged her vest and opened the door to the cabin, squinting at the brightness outside. "King Theoden told the Fellowship to ponder on whether to accept my offer, but I already know their decision. What better way is there to get Sauron by surprise than me unleashing the Blood upon him?"

Frodo followed after her, and at those words, he stopped her by the arm. "You speak of unleashing the Blood, but how do you know the Blood will accept to leave you? From what you have told me, it has its own consciousness."

Allie's face was grave when she turned to meet his gaze. "The day after tomorrow will mark the seventh day since you've fed me the Ent water. When that day comes, I will stay in my wolf form for a time to try and gauze at the Blood's thoughts."

She took a deep breath and let it go. "I must confront the Blood again at some point. Better sooner than later."

Her grey eyes were blazing when she added: "Lock me up when I am in my wolf form. I cannot risk harming anyone else, least of all you."

She could see Frodo's strong reluctance at that idea, but finally, he agreed with her with a brief nod.

Allie then walked a few feet away, scanning the plains for any signs of Shadowfax. Suddenly, she spotted dark dots galloping in the distance. Her heart leapt, but settled once more when she realized it was just a herd of wild horses.

"I wonder where my wolves are. I thought they would have reached Rohan by now," she spoke her thoughts aloud.

Frodo placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Councillor said they were on their way. I also wish to see them. After we parted ways at Minas Tirith, I dreaded that I had seen Hunter for the last time."

Allie was pleased to hear the concern in Frodo's voice. "It seems that you two have bonded. But what exactly happened in Minas Tirith?"

She had seen the grief in Aragorn's eyes and had not dared to ask him.

Frodo's face darkened at that. "It was a massacre. Gondor did not stand a chance. Lord Denethor, the Steward, gave the soldiers false hope to make them fight the enemy while he himself escaped into the mountains."

Allie blinked. "So what happened to him after that? King Theoden would have mentioned it if such a person were amongst us here in Rohan."

Frodo turned his back to her to look for Shadowfax. "I don't think he survived the Goblin attack under the mountains."

He did not mention that Earnil and Aldamir had left him on purpose.

The hobbits finally spotted the Mearas grazing the grass a few yards away, a spot of immaculate white amidst the green.

Frodo put his fingers to his lips and let out a low whistle. Shadowfax's head peeked up, and then he started trotting towards them. Frodo could only marvel once more at the grace of his movements, feeling blessed that he had gotten to ride a Mearas at least once in his life.

When Shadowfax reached their side, Frodo walked up to him and placed a hand against his warm hide. When he looked back at Allie, he saw her looking at the cabin in longing. A deep sadness filled his own heart as he silently bid goodbye to this illusion of normalcy that they had lived in ever since Shadowfax had taken off with them.

"Ready to go?" he asked her softly.

Allie stared at the hut for a second more, but when she turned back to face him, her expression was firm. "Yes," she answered.

* * *

Two days later found Allie timidly entering the bathhouse in Eowyn's quarters. A wooden tub stood in the middle of the small room. The water inside was smoking after being heated from the fire roaring in the great hall. A fresh towel was neatly folded beside the tub. Allie slid the gown off her shoulders and edged closer on bare feet.

She went up three steps of stairs to reach the top of the tub and peered down at the steaming water. She tested its temperature with her toes, and then immersed her whole body in it with a sigh of content.

The water was hot, almost scalding, but she welcomed the heat as she sat in the tub with her knees drawn against her chest. She left her left hand hanging out of the tub, not wanting to get her bandages wet. The cuts on her left wrist still ached dully. Now that the Blood was asleep within her, her injuries healed at a normal rate. She had never realized until now how much she had come to rely on it to restore her health and close her wounds.

But now she was glad to feel the pain. The pain meant that the Blood was still locked away, at least until the end of this day. And then it would be time to confront what lived inside of her.

She stared down at her own body underneath the still water of the tub; her gaze rested on the long scar on the side of her abdomen, looking pink and swollen under the water. She traced its shape with her index, expecting to feel some kind of pain or discomfort, but felt nothing. It was as though the skin that she was touching was completely normal.

She proceeded to touch the other smaller scars which marred her belly, chest and arms. It was her first time noticing them, truly. She had not cared about what was under her clothes until she had taken them off in front of Frodo. Realizing she had such markings must have been the most embarrassing moment of her life.

She still could not believe Frodo had accepted them so easily.

_It was because it was dark and he did not see clearly_, the voices mocked.

Here, under the light of the day, those scars looked like swollen worms on her skin.

_In truth, you know that he was disgusted_, the voices continued.

"No," she countered with her eyes closed.

She remembered the way he had kissed them. The memory still made her cheeks flare with a kind of heat which did not come from the hot water in which she bathed.

She pushed all thoughts aside by immersing her head under the water. She held her breath for long seconds before emerging again and brushing her wet hair back from her face.

The hot water was doing wonders to her sore muscles. Sitting in that Hall for hours the day before as King Theoden and the rest discussed how best to use the Blood inside of her to their advantage had been more draining than she had thought.

The conclusion of those long hours of discussion had been one simple thing: it was hard to build any kind of plan when they didn't know how many people would join their side of the war, or when the enemy would come. The only thing Allie knew for certain was that they had to use the geography to their advantage. The enemy was not familiar with these lands, but the Rohirrims have been living and battling in these plains for centuries.

To that effect, Eomer had selected the elite of the Rohirrim riders to pour over maps of the region.

In the meantime, all that the rest of them could do was wait.

When Allie was done bathing, she stepped out of the tub and shook out the towel. Drops of water dripped off the edges of her hair and ran down her calves to pool at her feet. She dried herself and then put her trousers and vest back on.

Galadriel's phial almost rolled out from inside her pocket, and she tucked it back to safety with a small smile.

When she stepped out of the bathhouse and into Eowyn's bedroom, the chilly air made her shiver. The murmur of Eowyn's voice reached her from the adjacent room. She cut across the bedroom and opened the door a crack to peek into the salon. Eowyn turned around at the sound of the hinges creaking, murmured a few last words to her interlocutor outside in the hall, and then closed the door to her quarters before coming towards Allie.

The hobbit lass stared up at the Lady of Rohan a bit timidly. Eowyn was tall, even for a woman from the race of Men. Pale green eyes looked out of a snow-white complexion. The white dress she wore clung to her figure and hugged at her slender waist before rippling down to the floor. She gave off a sense of grace from simply standing quietly in that silent room.

Allie bowed her head and said: "You have my thanks for letting me use your bath, my Lady."

Eowyn waved off her thanks. "Please do call me Eowyn. You must be hungry. Shall I tell the servants to bring some breakfast?"

It was still early in the morning. The sun was merely beginning to peak from the Eastern windows, its pale rays creeping steadily along the carpet. Allie shook her head at Eowyn's proposal. In fact, the bath had worn her out, and now she only wished to regain her room to get some more sleep before the day started for good.

Eowyn did not relent. "A cup of tea then, perhaps? I do wish to talk to you for a bit before you have to leave, if you do not mind."

Allie accepted the offer then, not wanting to be impolite to someone who had shown her so much kindness. She had heard that the Lady had taken care of her when she had not been herself, cleaning her and dressing her after she had transformed back into her hobbit self.

Eowyn motioned them to a small circular table for two sitting by the window. Allie took a seat, and Eowyn sat opposite from her.

"What do you want to talk about?" the hobbit inquired curiously.

Eowyn considered her pensively. "You are the first female warrior that I have met," she finally admitted. "You belong to a race that few people even knew existed. I am aware that you have been through dark times, but I wonder if you will not tell me a bit about yourself and the battles you have fought?"

Allie considered Eowyn then. On the surface, she looked like the most gracious of ladies, but there was a fierce and rebellious glint buried deep within her gaze.

"I don't know if I would use the word warrior to describe myself," the hobbit answered honestly. "I have been a wolf since a very young age. The battles I have fought have been mostly against other wolves and predators. The rules among a pack are different from the rules of human society."

A servant entered with a platter and served tea for them.

Allie took a sip of hers carefully; the warmth suffused her body and almost made her yawn. She had slept for two hours at the most the night before. After she had left that hut, her nights had been troubled once more. She didn't know why thoughts of every nature would just race through her mind every time she closed her eyes, preventing her from getting the sleep she needed.

And the voices had been more present lately as well, whispering her inner thoughts out loud in her head. She wondered if that was because the Ent water was fading and the Blood was starting to reawaken once more.

"And yet," Eowyn's voice pulled her back to the present, "I have heard from your Elf – wolf - companion that you also have skills with a blade. Whence did you learn that?"

Allie smiled. "From Glorfindel, an Elf of Rivendell. After I became a wolf, I was raised by Lord Elrond for a time. He told me much about Elven lore and other matters of the world."

Eowyn's eyes were shining with interest. "Truly? How rich a life that must have been! Your experiences remind me of those of Lord Aragorn. He was also raised in Rivendell."

At the mention of Aragorn's name, a light kindled on her face, making her glow. Allie was astonished by what she saw. This woman was in love with Aragorn. It was as plain as day. Unease and compassion flooded over her at the knowledge that her love would not be returned.

"A rich life?" she answered quietly. "Perhaps. I have seen and experienced things that an ordinary person would not experience even after three lifetimes. But I would have given it all up to stay in the Shire where I have spent my childhood. Now, those peaceful days shall never return."

Eowyn looked at her, her tea forgotten in front of her. "But you are now a Queen amongst your kin. You have seen glory and created history with your own two hands."

"I am a leader of wolves," she agreed. "but not by choice. The Blood made me reign over them, and yet I am barely the one most deserving to lead. Hunter is a better fighter. Informant's cunning and ruthlessness has saved us on more occasions than I can count. Councillor's wisdom has guided us onto the right paths to take. And Pippin... Pippin is an innocent soul who sees the good in people and who knows the true value of what it means to be alive. I have been chosen to reign over all of them and yet… I am not better than any of them."

Thinking of the core of her pack brought a longing to her chest. Where were they now? Informant, Hunter and Pippin, and the rest of her wolves. She felt eerily lonely with the Blood link to them so completely severed. They had always been but a mind's touch away, but for the first time in over twenty years, her thoughts belonged to her alone. She drank some more tea to drown the shiver.

"I just want all of them to pull through these desperate times alive," she pursued. "They have become the family I have never had. I almost wish to order them to cease all involvement in this war, but I know they would never accept that. That is how much they respect me."

She looked out the window at the green plains, perhaps wishing to see wolf figures running towards her from the distant hills.

"And because they love you," Eowyn said with unrestrained emotion. "They would do anything for you and they would follow you wherever your path takes you."

She wrapped her hands around her cup and lost herself in the sight of the herbs twirling in her tea.

"Are we still talking about me?" Allie enquired gently.

Eowyn looked up vividly. "Yes, of course."

Allie sighed and decided to change the subject. "You asked me about my experience as a warrior. Well, war is not what you think it is," she turned her face towards the window as her fingers tapped the table. "It is not glory, it is just death. I sense a fiery spirit within you, Lady Eowyn. I know you want to be part of the glorious tales that your uncle and your brother bring back every time they return from battle, but nothing in those tales really prepares you for the sight of dead bodies strewn about, of the stench of fire and blood and carrion." She turned neutral grey eyes towards her. "But perhaps you will get to experience it yourself very soon, Lady Eowyn, just as you have wished. When Sauron comes, everything and everyone will be sucked into the destruction that he will bring."

Eowyn's eyes grew cold. "I will not let him harm my people! I will be ready for him when he comes."

"Is protecting the people the only reason for which you fight?" the hobbit asked.

Eowyn paused at this, her green eyes uncertain. But that uncertainty lasted but a minute.

"I want to fight beside the people I love. For once, just once, I want to be a part of it instead of being left behind to wonder, to worry and to wait."

She stared at Allie. "Is that not the reason for which you fight as well? I know you would never bear to leave your companion to face this war alone."

Allie could not contradict the veracity of those words. She studied the woman sitting in front of her and saw an emptiness underneath the mask of strength that she was trying so desperately to present to herself and to the rest of the world.

"And whom do _you_ love?" Allie asked her softly.

Eowyn startled at that as though she had been slapped. She took another nervous sip of her tea and said nothing.

"Lord Aragorn?" Allie prompted.

Eowyn put down her drink and stood up from the table to stand at the window. Her white dress glowed and glinted in the morning sun. Suddenly, she looked lonely and fragile as she stood there facing the plains of Rohan rolling onto the horizon line.

"It is a love that can never be, for he loves another," Eowyn said in a whisper.

She looked down in surprise when she felt Allie taking hold of her hand. The hobbit's eyes were full of benevolence as she looked up at her.

"Perhaps so, but that does not mean that you have to throw your life away, my Lady. Who is to say that you will never find love again?"

Eowyn took her hand back a bit brusquely. "No, I do not want to find another love. What I want, what I need, is _his_ love. He treats me as his equal. When I am with him, I do not feel as though I am living in a cage!"

Allie was trying to find the words for an appropriate response when her eyes suddenly met with those of Aragorn, who was standing very quietly in the doorway to Eowyn's salon.

Her eyes widened slightly as she sustained the Ranger's troubled gaze. Eowyn saw the change on her face and quickly turned around. Her hand flew to her mouth when she noticed Aragorn standing there.

"L-lord Aragorn," she stuttered as a look of horror invaded her features when she realized he had heard every word.

"Eowyn," Aragorn started, but Eowyn quickly pushed past him in a flurry of white robes to disappear down the hall.

"Lady Eowyn!" Aragorn called again in vain.

He made a move to go after her, but then from the corner of his eye he saw Allie still standing by the window with her hands clasped together.

"You should go after her," she said quietly.

He held her gaze. "I will. But first I have something to tell you."

Seeing her questioning eyes, he added: "The Rohirrim riders camped on the plains have sighted a pack of wolves coming towards the castle."

Allie's eyes brightened at that as a smile broke on her face. "Truly?"

Aragorn returned her smile. "Yes, Allie. They are here."

As she ran past him with her heart thumping in her chest like a drum, Aragorn placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"Today is the last day, isn't it?" he asked quietly.

Allie knew he was referring to the Ent water. "Yes," she answered. "After I transform back, I will stay as a wolf for some time. There are several matters that I need to attend to."

Aragorn simply nodded. "Be careful. Do not let it take over again."

The light of concern in his eyes touched her. They had not had a moment alone ever since they had been reunited, but it was in this instant that Allie recalled how much of a comfort it was to have the Ranger by her side.

"I will not let that happen again," she promised. "Thank you, Aragorn. And I'm truly sorry for your loss."

Aragorn looked away at that and simply nodded.

Allie touched his hand still placed on her shoulder. Her grey eyes housed a determined fire as she held his gaze and stated fiercely: "We will defeat Sauron and take back Minas Tirith once more, Aragorn. You are not alone."

Aragorn had a small smile at that. "Go now. Your wolves are waiting for you."

Allie nodded and left him to go find Eowyn as she raced through the halls of Meduseld, running past servants and riders, running past the main Hall until the giant doors came into sight. She pushed them open and came out onto the balcony from where she sprinted down the stairs and entered the streets of the city.

Soon, she reached the gates of the city leading out into the plains. There was a lot of commotion there as commoners and Rohirrim alike crowded near the doors, trying to get a look at whatever was happening outside.

Allie pushed past them all, yelling at them to make way. As soon as she set foot outside the city, a warm and heavy mass fell on top of her and pushed her to the ground. Soon, a raspy tongue was licking every inch of her face that it could find.

"Pippin!" she cried out in pure joy as she tried to hug him and avoid his tongue at the same time.

The auburn wolf was now on top of her, his green eyes sparkling with joy and excitement as he wagged his bushy tail like a young puppy. Allie rolled over him and hugged him by the neck.

"Pippin! It is so good to see you!" she laughed as she grabbed him by the ears and fiercely pressed her forehead against his.

Pippin kept bumping his head against her chest as she tried to contain his wriggling body in her embrace. She had never seen him that excited before, but then again she couldn't remember the last time they had been separated for such a long time.

Love filled her heart as she dug her fingers into his fur and let his warmth suffuse her.

She then looked over Pippin's frame and saw wolves of his unit prowling excitedly a few feet away with their tongues hanging. She rose and proceeded to greet each of them with a touch of her hand. As the wolves paced around her and sought her hand with their heads, she looked back towards Pippin with a radiant smile on her face.

The onlookers standing at the gates of Edoras whispered amongst themselves as they pointed at her and the wolves with a mixture of awe and apprehension in their eyes.

Suddenly, the crowd parted to give way to Councillor's brown shape. Pippin's ears stood straight at the sight of him and he quickly trotted up to the old wolf to rub heads. Councillor's deep brown eyes were benevolent as he looked down at the protector of the pack.

"Well met, Pippin."

"Councillor!" Pippin let out excitedly. "I'm so happy to see you and Allie again. I was worried sick for the both of you!"

"As you can see, we are both more than fine," Councillor reassured him.

Pippin looked around. "Where is your unit? I can't smell them with so many human odors overcrowding this place."

"I have left them at the outskirts of the plains," Councillor responded. "Their presence unsettles the horses."

As if to give weight of his words, one of the horses suddenly whinnied in terror when one of the wolves came too close to sniff at it. It would have galloped away if not for the restraining hand of its rider.

"Hey!" Pippin called out to the wolf that had been terrorizing the poor beast. "Stop circling around that poor animal and come back here!"

The small grey wolf which had been called out flattened his ears against his head and quietly retreated. "My wolves are hungry," Pippin explained. "We have run here as fast as we could and game has been scarce."

"Pippin!" Allie's voice reached his ears and the auburn wolf turned towards her.

Allie walked up to him and Councillor with a lightness in her step that Councillor had not seen her portray ever since she had come back to being herself.

"Where are Hunter and Informant? Are they coming soon?" she asked.

Pippin simply nodded, and then he eyed Councillor next to him. "How long until the Ent water fades for her? There are many things that we need to discuss."

"It should not be long now," Councillor replied.

At the sight of the wolves, a kind of exhilaration had filled Allie. She now couldn't wait for the Ent water to fade. With the coming of the wolves, she was no longer scared. All she wanted to do was to feel connected to them once more; to hear their voices and to share their thoughts like she had been doing for all her life.

"Pippin!" Merry's voice suddenly rose from behind them.

Pippin twirled around to see Merry, Sam and Frodo coming. Merry let out a joyous laugh and clapped his hands together before hugging Pippin's big head to his chest. "There you are! I'm so glad to see you again!"

Sam also patted Pippin's flank shyly and let out a cry of surprise when the auburn wolf twirled around and knocked his head into his shoulder playfully.

Frodo looked at Allie with a small smile on his lips. He remembered how scared she had been all this time at the prospect of turning back into a wolf, but seeing her beaming so happily in the middle of her pack, he knew that this was where she belonged.

A surge of sadness overwhelmed him when he realized that no matter how much she desired to stay as a hobbit, her real home no longer resided in the Shire. He knew that she never had a real family until she claimed her place within the pack. Her wolves were and had always been her real family; they had years of memories together and were linked by the same blood.

A very long time ago, she had once told him that her home was where he was, and he had always held those words close to his heart. That was the reason why he had told her that he wanted to become a wolf as well, but was _his_ place truly with the pack?

Suddenly, Merry crying out Allie's name snapped him out of his thoughts. He lifted his head just in time to see Allie doubling over with her arms crossed over her chest. Her wild blonde hair was now sticking to her face and her back, as though each strand was trying to get under her skin.

When Allie looked at him, her pupils slowly elongated until they became vertical slits amidst the grey.

The crowd overlooking them gasped and took a step back.

"Bless me!" Sam exclaimed frantically. "I think she is transforming back!"

In a second, Frodo was beside her, holding onto her shoulder. "Allie," he whispered urgently. "Are you all right?"

She looked at him and grimaced in spite of herself as her blood boiled and his face zoomed in and out of focus in front of her eyes.

"Quick," she managed to let out through growing fangs. "Bring me back to the cage."

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! :) Leave me a comment if you did (or didn't). But hopefully you did, lol :p

**Uchiha no Kaori:** Hey there! Yeah, last episode was pure fluff lolz. I needed to write that too since it's been a while, and I missed writing the romance. Well, the light of Earendil gleaming could be just a metaphor for hope returning, or it could mean the power of the phial has come back somewhat ;) Whatever it is, I suppose you'll know later! Thanks for the review, dear!


	52. The Gathering of Free Folk

**The Gathering of Free Folk  
**

The golden wolf sat very still in the darkness of the cellar cage, meticulously scanning the room in which she used to be imprisoned. The thick iron bars of her cage, eaten by rust, bore the marks of her teeth when she had struggled to escape. The other smaller cage beside hers was empty. Directly in front of her, a few damp steps led up to the door and the freedom beyond.

Now that she was a wolf again, clearer memories of the time the Blood had stolen from her were starting to come back in force. They came back as whole memories of events instead of the unpredictable bits and pieces from before.

She remembered Frodo coming to see her. He would often sit in front of her cage with his back against that wall. She remembered Aragorn visiting as well, his mouth forming words that she couldn't hear across the fog in her mind.

She had a vague memory now of dragging Grima Wormtongue into the water and ripped his leg to pieces, keeping his body anchored in the depths until he had drowned. But try as she might, she could not remember killing Saruman. That whole episode after the Blood and the Spell had both taken over her remained as obscure as a bottomless pit.

Two shadows detached themselves from the shadowy corner of the cellar and advanced in front of her cage.

She rested clear silver eyes on them: Pippin and Councillor.

Pippin was watching her with evident concern. He had one paw slightly raised off the ground as his ears pointed in her direction. Councillor showed more countenance, but his usually placid brown eyes now shone eerily in the dark, betraying his unease.

"Allie, how do you feel?" Pippin asked.

"Like myself," she answered. "I don't sense the presence of the Blood."

Although that wasn't entirely true; she could sense something within her, a presence stronger than ever before, like an invisible guff of wind behind a curtain, making it swell and billow. But just like that wind, it could not be seen, only felt. However, that presence was not strong to enough to speak up or to take over her. Or perhaps it was just laying in wait for now.

_"__If you want something, show yourself to me!"_

Only inner silence answered her thoughts.

_"__Last time you caught me off guard, but it will not happen again!"_

Silence again in the face of her defiance.

Councillor rubbed his silky fur against the bars of the cage as he paced along the edge of it. Allie rubbed her flank against his from the other side, sighing a little at this contact with another wolf body.

"You cannot stay down here forever," his soft voice echoed within her.

"I know that well, but King Theoden will not be satisfied with this outcome. And he would be right in his fears. If I lose myself again when I'm out there, who can tell what damage I might inflict upon all of you?"

Councillor shook his head. "Your pack will not let that happen."

She shook her big wolf head. "The wolves cannot contain me. If I unleash the Blood on you, you will be crushed! Don't you remember what I did to Pippin in Mordor?"

The auburn wolf wagged his tail silently in memory of the event.

"And in Isengard," she continued shortly. "I turned into an abomination that none of you could stop. It took Gandalf's magic to finally neutralize me."

"Queen!" Councillor protested, very agitated now. "You were not yourself!"

"But I was still a monster," she replied evenly. "It is the truth, a truth that we might come to face again."

Councillor did not back off. "It was only my unit and I back in Isengard, but now your entire pack is finally reuniting in the same place. It will take a lot of power, even for the Blood, to subjugate them all."

"The wolves are coming?" Allie whispered.

The brown wolf nodded. "They are very close now, can you not feel them?"

Allie remained silent for a moment. "I have not opened myself up to them yet."

Pippin's green eye peeked at her between two bars. "Why?"

When she didn't answer, he licked her fur reassuringly. "I missed talking to you, Allie. We all did. It felt empty without your consciousness linked to ours."

She slowly licked her muzzle. "I missed you all as well. Very much. But I'm holding back because re-establishing all connection means giving myself entirely to the flow of the Blood. But you are right. Now, it's past time."

Taking in a deep breath, she opened herself up to her pack for the first time since the darkness had taken hold of her. She felt the Blood links to her wolves sizzling as one by one, the channels linking her heart to those of her pack opened up.

The multitude of voices that assaulted made her reel on her legs.

_"__It's the Queen!" _

_"__She's well!"_

_"__Where have you been?"_

_"__Are you hurt?"_

_"__We killed all the Goblins and Uruk-hai, just like you ordered!"_

_"__I can feel her! She's in Meduseld!"_

_"__That's close!"_

Warmth filled her chest at the joy and excitement in their voices. In spite of her happiness, she tried making out that other voice, that inner voice, but it never appeared.

With her eyes shining silver in the gloom of her cage, she projected her joy and love to all the wolves of her pack. "I am well now, wolves. I thank you for your concern. I will not make you worry nor go silent for such a long time ever again. I thank you for holding the fort in my absence."

She felt her wolves' pride through the vibrations in the Blood link.

And then a voice that she knew well reached her from the multitude, "Queen, I knew you would be back!"

She felt her heart swell. "Hunter, how glad am I to hear your voice! Thank you for taking care of Frodo and Sam when they were in Minas Tirith."

"So you have met with the little ones? After all the trouble they have caused me, it's good that they survived." In spite of his grumble, he sounded pleased.

"Are you well?" she inquired softly.

"Never better!" he boasted. "I have a few more battle scars to display after all!"

"Queen," Informant cut in. "We have just arrived in Edoras."

"Informant!" she beamed. "They told me of your quest to the South. Have you found what you were looking for?"

"See for yourself," he answered gleefully.

Miles from where Allie was, the Rohirrim on the field raised a loud clamor at the approach of the nine Corsair ships with their black sails billowing in the wind. The banner of the black wolf flew proudly from the center mast of the mother ship.

The ships were gliding down the Snowbourn River, which was a small tributary that passed through Edoras itself, from its junction with the larger Entwash River.

Not far from Meduseld, there was a small and unused port on the port side of the Snowbourn, and that is where the ships came to a rocking halt. Errol, the second-in-command of the Corsair ships, served as Urithor's voice to announce that the ships be decked securely to the wooden posts along the riverside.

Eomer and several other Rohirrim riders carrying the white horse banner of Rohan came to greet them, the hooves of their horses like thunder on earth as the group approached. The riders stayed at a respectful distance from the port as the dark pirates sauntered down their ships and started tethering them to the wooden posts with thick wet ropes that they threw to one another over the ships.

The horses whinnied uncomfortably when packs of wolves jumped out of the belly of the ships to quickly scatter away into the plains, relieved to feel firm ground under their paws once more.

Dragut emerged from the pack of wolves and approached the Rohirrim riders with his battle axe anchored to his back.

The Rohirrim riders gaped at his giant form and at the scars on his face, but did not back down when he came strolling straight towards them. After sizing the group of riders from their golden helmets to their brown boots, he extended one big hand in front of him.

"Dragut, sword master," he announced roughly.

Eomer left his horse behind and took off his golden helmet. He shook the pirate's hand briefly. "Eomer, son of Eomund, Marshall of the Riddermark."

His keen eyes scanned the ships and the activities surrounding them.

"Where is your King?"

Dragut shrugged. "Away on other business."

Eomer quirked one eyebrow. "Away? Did he not come with you?"

"He did, but now he's away," Dragut replied curtly.

Eomer looked up at the giant and scowled at the dark look on the pirate's face. It would not be easy for them to communicate, it seemed.

A smaller pirate, older in age and with unassuming features, approached from behind Dragut and introduced himself as Errol, the second-in-command. He stepped in front of taller pirate and explained in a clear voice: "Our leader, Prince Urithor, is of the wolf-kin. He has gone to visit his pack leader in Meduseld."

Eomer could not conceal his expression of surprise. Allie had explained that the pirates had joined their cause only because their leader was now one of her own wolves, but hearing the facts from the pirate's mouth only now consolidated its truth.

"Enough of that," Dragut groaned impatiently. "We have two men injured who need to be tended to immediately. Do you have healers in your city?"

Eomer put his helmet back on and returned on top of his horse. "Yes, the very best. Where are your men? We will carry them back to the Golden Hall immediately."

"No," Dragut retorted with a scowl. "Make them come to the ships."

At the storm quickly brewing on Eomer's face, Errol added: "Please. They are in no shape to be moved. Also, I hear that Aragorn, son of Arathorn, is here as well. We need him to bring the healing herbs."

Eomer had no idea what those herbs were, but he agreed to carry the message.

A few miles from there, Informant and Hunter looked down on the exchange from atop a hill overlooking the port.

"Well, Queen, what do you think?" Informant asked Allie with a grin.

Back in her cage, Allie used the Blood to gauge the number of wolves that the ships had carried to Edoras. Informant and Hunter's units had come together on this day. Pippin's unit had joined them the day before, when Pippin himself had arrived. Councillor's unit had been here with them all along ever since the Elf had come to Meduseld. Finally, the Wargs she had acquired after killing the mother of wolves were at the outskirts of the plains, eating corpses of dead animals and hesitating to come close.

She felt her heart sink with grief.

"How many?" she asked quietly, even though she knew the answer.

Informant and Hunter, Pippin and Councillor, all remained silent for a moment, for they knew what she was really asking.

Finally, it was Hunter who answered in that deep voice of his. "I lost close to seventy wolves in the battle at Minas Tirith."

"Sixteen in Umbar," Informant reported, no longer grinning.

"Fourty-three at the battle of Minas Tirith," Pippin said sadly.

"None," Councillor finished. However, he had the smallest unit and had had the good fortune of not being involved in any battle so far.

Allie paced in her cage, her eyes glinting like silver blades. Pippin and Councillor backed away slightly at the waves of anger emanating from her prowling shape.

"One hundred and twenty-nine wolves dead," she finally said in a voice that made them shiver. "One third of my pack."

"This is the nature of war," Councillor interjected softly.

"And I was not here to feel their deaths, to read their last thoughts, to offer some last comfort," she continued as she paced faster and faster.

"So what if you could?" Informant retorted. "It would not have made any difference."

"Yes, it would have," she snarled.

"Dead is dead," Informant announced coldly. "At least you saved yourself the trouble of sharing in their suffering."

"I never shied away from sharing in the suffering of my own, Informant. I know how it feels like to die thinking that everyone has forsaken you and you are alone in the world. Every living creature comes into this world alone and dies alone, except for wolves. We have the privilege of dying knowing that we are connected to our loved ones until our last breath. That is a blessing that no other race can partake in. Will you even take that away from us, Informant?"

The black wolf growled but remained silent.

"Enough of this!" Hunter interjected.

"Yes, enough of this," Allie agreed somberly. "Come to me. We need to speak of several matters face to face."

The door of the cellar creaked open, letting in sunlight from outside. Allie cut all communication with her wolves and focused on the physical world around her. Footsteps were descending down the stairs, and in spite of the heavy conversation she had just entertained with the core of the pack, her heart leapt joyfully when she recognized Frodo's gait pattern.

A second later, the blue-eyed hobbit appeared in front of her cage, carrying a bucket of fresh horse meat.

Pippin and Councillor sniffed the air hungrily and circled around Frodo with eager looks on their faces.

The hobbit smiled at them. "Your part is waiting outside."

He came to Allie and deposited the bucket outside her cage. "How are you feeling, Allie? Any changes?"

He reached a hand in between the bars and Allie brushed her wolf head against his palm. He scratched at the thick fur of her neck, and then opened the door to the cage.

Before he could bring the meat bucket in, she stepped out beside him.

"Allie?" Frodo questioned with a frown.

Allie looked at Pippin and Councillor. "It is time. I know the Blood has not spoken to me, but I cannot afford to waste any more time here."

Councillor agreed immediately. "I also think it is the right decision."

"We will watch out for you," Pippin added.

Allie nodded and then turned to look at Frodo. The hobbit might not have heard their exchange, but he understood the look in her eyes.

"So is it time?" he asked.

She nodded.

Frodo let out a sigh of relief. "I'm glad. I never liked the thought of you being held down here."

Allie started climbing up the steps towards the rectangle of sunlight that led to the outside. "Come," she said, "let's go meet with Hunter and Informant."

* * *

After the Corsair ships arrived with their charge of 1500 pirates, more allies of the Free Folk started to gather in Rohan over the next couple of days. More Rohirrim Riders came from the Houses allied with King Theoden, bringing up the number of Rohirrim to eight thousand. The biggest surprise had been the garrison from Snowbourn, which had initially failed to respond to Theoden's convocation. However, today the Marshall of Snowbourn had come with two thousand men.

On the morning of the third day, an army of three thousand Elves from Rivendell and Lorien arrived on horse. It was the last contingency of Elven warriors who had not yet left for the Undying Lands. Leading them were Elrond's own twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir.

In their midst, much to Aragorn's joy, rode the Grey company made up of thirty-one Dunedain Rangers of the North, with Halbarad as their leader.

Aragorn and Halbarad reunited with a warm clasp of hands, and spent the day conversing quietly in a corner of the great Hall of Meduseld.

Elladan and Elrohir also brought a gift for Aragorn from Lord Elrond himself. It was Narsil, the blade of Elendil, reforged and reborn from the ashes as per Arwen's request.

Aragorn stared at it for a long time as the fire from the hearth reflected on the sharp blade danced in his eyes.

"Narsil," he murmured. "Named as such for it shines with the light of the moon and of the sun."

"May it fill your enemies with fear," Elladan said.

Aragorn nodded solemnly to Elrond's sons, wanting to inquire about Arwen, but fearing to know at the same time. The light of the Evenstar had been dimming as of late.

As for the hobbits, Frodo, Merry and Sam watched what everyone was now calling the Gathering of Free Folk with eyes full of wonder.

"I have never seen so many different races assembled together!" Merry exclaimed ecstatically.

"They have all gathered in this last hour with the goal of fighting one common Enemy," Gandalf voice rose behind them.

The hobbits turned around to look up at the Wizard, whose eyes were sweeping over the sea of battle tents erected across the fields of Rohan for as far as the eye could see.

"Let us hope it is enough to conquer the darkness," he added.

"Do you think we can win, Gandalf?" Frodo asked.

The Wizard watched the gathering army for a while longer before reporting his sharp blue eyes onto Frodo. "Not with our numbers. But we have something that the Dark Lord has long forsaken."

"And what is that?"

Gandalf smiled. "Hope, albeit a fool's hope."

The Wizard grasped his staff a little tighter. "And also, just as Sauron has his one Ring, we have our own weapon."

"An unpredictable weapon, if you are referring to Allie's Blood," Sam interjected.

Gandalf considered them. "Come, I want to show you something."

He led them to his quarters in the cool halls of Meduseld. There, inside a dusty closet set against the wall, he revealed two objects draped in white clothes. He pulled the cloth off one of them, revealing the jar with the puddle of Blood that he had taken from Allie's wrist. The Blood was coiling lazily onto itself, glinting red like a dimmed ruby.

"This is the true core of the Blood, I believe. It is no longer inside of Allie," Gandalf announced darkly, careful not to touch the surface of the flask.

Frodo watched it with a mixture of fascination and horror. "It is hard to believe that this is a part of Sauron."

"I wonder if Sauron himself has forgotten this part of himself," the Wizard muttered more to himself than to the hobbits.

"Has Allie seen it?" Merry asked.

The Wizard shook his head. "No, and I don't advise you to show it to her. There is an attraction between her and the Blood. If they come too close one to the other, something unpredictable might happen again."

The Wizard turned towards Frodo. "When the time comes, you will have to carry it to the battlefield, hidden from the eyes of allies and enemies alike. The fewer people know about this, the better."

Frodo nodded with a knot in his throat.

When the hobbits were leaving, Gandalf held Frodo back.

"How is your sleep, young hobbit?" he asked as he took support on his staff.

Frodo shrugged. "Fine."

"No dreams?"

The hobbit looked away for a second. "None."

Gandalf studied him for a moment more. "Good. Keep it that way."

As Frodo walked away from the Hall, he thought back of his dreams about the One Ring. It was always the same dream. He pulled the Ring off Sauron's finger and put it back on his own once more, dooming them all to fail again.

He shook his head. He would die before he let the Ring take him over again. And the dreams were not precognitions; at least he refused to think of them as such. They were simply a manifestation of the leash that the Ring kept around his neck, one which refused to fade even when he had been separated from it for so long.

When Frodo came out into the Great Hall, he saw the Lady Eowyn heading out the double doors. He caught up to her.

"Frodo," she saluted.

Frodo greeted her back and couldn't help but to notice the dark circles under her eyes. She seemed diminished somewhat, as though a light inside of her had gone off.

"Where are you heading, my Lady?"

"To the ships," she answered. She was holding a basket of clean clothes and towels. Frodo had heard that the pirates had had a skirmish with a fraction of Orcs on their way upriver, and people had gotten injured.

"I will go with you," he decided.

They went to the stables, and she took out a horse and he a pony. They rode through the tents and campfires in the field. Everywhere, there were men duelling with swords, cooking food over campfires, playing card games or sharpening their weapons. The smell of horses was almost overwhelming.

In an outside circle, a bit farther from the Men, the Elves had set their camp made of larger tents. Elven insignia adorned the outer surface of the flapping doors.

And in their periphery, the small circle of Dunedains sat around their campfire, wrapped in their capes and silently smoking their pipes, almost merging with the scenery. Frodo had to concentrate hard to keep his focus on their group, otherwise they would have become almost invisible to the eye.

Eowyn and Frodo navigated their horses amidst them all, not exchanging many words. When they finally left the bulk of the tents behind and came upon a bit of open space, they saw a pack of wolves on a faraway hill.

Frodo's pony whinnied nervously when he steered it in their direction. Eowyn followed after him. The wolves looked up upon sensing their arrival; their gleaming eyes appraised the horse-riders for a moment before they returned to what they were doing.

Frodo smelled more than saw what they were up to. The small pack of wolves had apprehended a herd of sheep, and now they were ripping through their intestines and eating their meat. Sheep blood tainted the grass of the plains a vibrant red.

Frodo looked for Allie or any of the other wolf leaders, but they were not here. The wolves continued their meal noisily as Frodo and Eowyn passed them by to continue on their way to the Snowbourn River and the black ships that they could now see anchored to the port.

Eowyn galloped up to Frodo's level.

"Have you seen your companion?"

Frodo knew she was alluding to Allie. "Not since she left the cage with the others."

Eowyn rode for a moment in silence, her pale green eyes pensive. "If I had come upon that pack of wolves before all of this happened, I would have shot them dead. In fact, I have done so in the past. Now I wonder if those I killed were real wolves or people."

Frodo also wondered if there were still normal wolves out there, those who were mere animals. "I don't blame you. I would have done the same thing; or in my case, most likely I would have run away from them." He smiled slightly. "I still remember the first time I saw a wolf. I was only a child, and I was with Allie. There were two wolves and one of them was a Queen. It was that day that Allie's fate changed."

Eowyn said nothing.

"As for me," Frodo continued. "I suppose my fate changed when my Uncle Bilbo left me that Ring. Or perhaps, yes, perhaps even on the day when he picked it up inside Gollum's cave before I was even born."

Eowyn chanced a look his way. "I am envious of you both."

Frodo was stunned out of his thoughts. "It is the first time I hear those words spoken about us. Truly, our situation is nothing desirable."

Eowyn's smile was a bit melancholic. "It just seems this world has given you a role to play since the very beginning. And on top of that, you have found each other and vowed to stay together even though the odds are not in your favour, even though you are so different. Some people cannot even find that with others of the same kin."

Frodo stayed silent at that, pondering.

Errol saw them coming from the ships with a hand cast over his eyes against the glare of the sun. As Eowyn and Frodo stopped their horses and jumped down to tether them to wooden posts, the old pirate threw down a ladder towards them from atop the mother ship.

Eowyn climbed up with practiced ease with her basket under one arm, and Frodo followed more slowly, for it was his first time boarding such a large ship. The wood of the deck was old-looking but polished and clean. The center mast was a thick rod of solid wood covered with cracking red paint; the flag of a black wolf billowed at the very top, soaring above the folded black sails.

Some of the pirates were on board, but most of them had gone exploring the fields nearby while others were fishing in the river.

"How are they?" Eowyn asked Errol.

She had come to take care of the two injured men quite often ever since the ships had docked. The first time, she had come with Aragorn and had watched as the Ranger had cleaned the wounds of the adult man with Kingsfoil.

Aragorn had seemed to recognize the injured man, and when she had asked him who he was, Aragorn had told her he was Faramir, son of Denethor. His father and elder brother were now dead, which made him the one officially in charge of the destroyed citadel.

Faramir had been in dire shape. He had been burning with fever, for his arrow wounds to the chest had become infested. Aragorn had to cut away at the infection before he could clean the wounds with Kingsfoil. He did not know whether Faramir would survive the infection.

However, on this third day, Eowyn was relieved to see that his fever had broken and he seemed less restless in his sleep as he lay wrapped under two layers of blankets.

Frodo peered from behind her as she wet a towel in clear water and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

When Frodo saw who the Man was, he bolted to the side of the bunk.

"Lord Faramir!" he cried out.

Eowyn was surprised. "You know him?"

"Yes!" Frodo exclaimed frantically. "He was the one who told us to get his people into the mountain tunnels! I thought he had perished along with the others!"

The hobbit placed his small hand over the man's bigger one resting by his side. Faramir's skin was still warm with a light fever and his breathing had a raspy quality, but Eowyn reassured him that the worst had passed.

"I can't believe he's alive!" Frodo exclaimed with unbidden emotion. "I dared not hope to see him again."

He silently thanked the Valars for sparing his life.

Eowyn went back on wiping at his face and neck. Thick white bandages were wrapped around his torso and arms. She changed those with deft fingers after cleaning them with fresh water.

"How did he come to be here?" Frodo asked Eowyn without taking his eyes off Faramir.

However, it was a young boy's voice who answered him: "I was the one who saved him."

Frodo whirled around and saw a young teenage boy with black hair and jade eyes leaning against the door of the cabin. One of his arms was held up against his chest. In place of a hand, there was a stump wrapped in thick white bandages.

"Gritt!" Eowyn exclaimed. "What are you doing out of bed? You are not allowed to move yet!"

Gritt shrugged rebelliously. "I lost a hand, but my legs are fine." As an afterthought, he added: "Lady Eowyn."

Eowyn sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"

"That Man with the herbs didn't say not to get out of bed," Gritt groaned defensively.

Eowyn stood up with her hands on her waist. "Lord Aragorn might not have said so, but _I_ am telling you so. The last time you went up on deck without permission, you almost fainted. You lost a lot of blood from that injury, Gritt."

Gritt rolled his eyes and reported his attention onto Frodo, sizing him up and down. "Who are you?"

Frodo smiled. "My name is Frodo Baggins. Nice to meet you."

He extended his right hand, which Gritt looked down upon with a sardonic smile as he waved his right stump in front of Frodo. The hobbit's face flashed pink and he extended his left hand instead.

Gritt gripped it for a second with his own. "You can just call me Gritt."

He reported his green eyes onto Eowyn. "I need to speak with Prince Urithor. Have you seen him? Is he on board?"

Eowyn finished cleaning up Faramir, and spoke without turning around. "I don't think he's on board. The pirates say he has been away ever since the ships docked."

Gritt's traits fell. "I see," he said and turned to leave.

Frodo looked after him pensively for a second and then followed him. In spite of Eowyn's warnings, Gritt went up the stairs to the deck and squinted at the hot afternoon sun.

He walked to the railing and looked at the plains of Rohan extending to the horizon.

"It's like a sea, but made of grass," he mumbled.

"Yes, that's a quite accurate description," Frodo's voice reached from behind him.

Gritt glanced back sharply. "Well, it won't stay like this for much longer. Sauron's army is coming and I've seen his numbers with my own eyes. We will probably all be dead very soon."

Frodo leaned against the railing. "I've seen his numbers too and I've experienced fighting him directly, but trust me Gritt, he will not kill us that easily. No one here will go down without a fight."

Gritt frowned as he eyed the hobbit who was even shorter than he was, and he found himself unable to believe in the veracity of his words. This little man had fought against the Dark Lord himself?

Frodo smiled at the disbelief brimming in his eyes. "I know I don't look the part of a warrior, but once, someone told me that even the smallest person can change the course of the future."

Something in his blue eyes convinced Gritt that he was telling the truth. "Well," the boy conceded, "I guess I won't go down without a fight either. It's not like I have much choice if this is the last stand of Men."

He thought about fighting the Orcs with his father, and a brief rush of excitement coursed through him.

"Is Prince Urithor the leader of the pirates?" Frodo asked.

Gritt gave a curt nod.

Frodo realized then that this Prince Urithor must in fact be Informant, the black wolf. No wonder he had been absent. He must be with Allie and the others at this moment. He studied the boy again and remembered his look of disappointment at Urithor's absence.

"Who's Prince Urithor to you?"

"My father," Gritt grumbled after awhile.

Frodo was taken aback. Informant had a son?

"Although he probably doesn't see me as worthy of being his progeny," Gritt continued with a shrug he wanted nonchalant. "It seems all I have done so far is to disappoint him. He probably doesn't care if I live or die."

"I don't think that's true," Frodo replied.

"It is true, trust me," Gritt retorted sardonically. "You don't know him. You don't know what he's like."

"Well, actually, I do," Frodo disputed with gentleness.

Gritt squinted his eyes at him. "What? How?!"

The hobbit turned away as a guff of wind blew smoke from the campfire into their eyes. "Well, I don't know him as the leader of pirates, but I have met the wolf side of him."

"How is he like?" Gritt asked him, eager to glean any information about his father.

Frodo debated whether he should tell the boy the truth. "He is a proud and cunning wolf. He never hesitates to make a kill, and he is feared by his enemies."

Gritt thought that described his father rather accurately. "How do you know all this? Can you talk to the wolves?" he asked as he began eyeing Frodo in a new light.

"No, I cannot, but the Queen of the pack told me all that I know of her wolves. If your father is not here, it's probably because he is with the others from the pack. You should not take it personally. He left you because he knew you would be in good hands."

However, Gritt didn't hear anything beyond "Queen of the pack".

"What?" he exclaimed. "My father is not the leader of the wolves?"

Frodo was surprised that Informant had not explained much about wolves to his son. "No, the Queen is. But your father occupies an important position. Much like a citadel's Steward, I suppose," he finished pensively.

Gritt stared off thoughtfully into the plains for a long time. From the corner of his eye, Frodo glimpsed Eowyn conversing heatedly with Errol. She was trying to convince him to let her bring Faramir back to Meduseld, where he could be cared for more thoroughly.

Errol finally relented and allowed her to call a horse cart over to transport Faramir back.

"I want to talk to her," Gritt's firm voice reclaimed his attention.

Frodo met the boy's determined gaze. "I want to speak to this Queen of the pack. If you know her, can you arrange a meeting?"

Frodo did not see a problem with that. "Yes, I'll arrange it if time permits."

"Thank you," Gritt threw at him curtly before heading down towards his cabin.

Frodo watched him leave and wondered what Allie would make of Informant's boy.

* * *

Allie climbed to the summit of a rocky hill and looked back at the golden glare of Meduseld in the distance. Pippin and Councillor followed after her, oftentimes sniffing the air when the scent of wild game reached their nostrils.

Allie was happy to be under the skies again. She lifted her head and stared at the clouds floating past, losing herself in the sight of their ephemeral quality.

Suddenly, the earth vibrated under her paws. She turned just in time to see Hunter's giant shape charging up the hill towards her.

"Queen!" his voice rumbled inside of her like thunder as he skidded to a halt in front of her. His unique eye was very blue as he stared down at her figure.

Allie went to him and rubbed her head against his with affection. "Hunter! It's so good to see you!"

He pulled back and appraised her again in appreciation. "You have grown in size."

Allie arched her head back proudly.

Informant trudged up the hill more slowly behind Hunter, his black fur glistening under the sun and his yellow eyes as fierce as ever. However, the usual glint of coldness was absent from his pupils as he dipped his head slightly in greeting.

"You have managed to worry us again," he said as greeting.

"I didn't know you could feel worry," she retorted pleasantly.

"I always worry about you," Informant said with a roll of his eyes. "You should be more careful in your actions."

Allie prowled towards him and gave him a head rub as well. "Yes, it's good to see you too, Informant."

Pippin bounced happily onto Informant's back and nibbed at his ear playfully. "When was the last time we've been together like this? And by this, I mean physically," he asked cheerfully.

"Years, at least," Councillor pondered.

Informant tried to shake Pippin off, but Pippin held on firmly with his teeth and refused to let go, a playful glint in his green eyes.

"That hurts, you little bastard!" Informant growled.

Pippin's eyes flashed when he finally let go with a wolf smile. "That's for acting stubborn in front of the Black Gate and making us hate you for a while."

Informant showed him the back of his head. "I did go back for that last waterskin of Ent water, so shut your mouth, will you?"

"Yes, you did. It was a brave choice, Informant," Councillor praised softly.

Hunter emitted a loud howling laughter. "Brave? Yes, I suppose in your case that insignificant act would be considered bravery amidst the actions of your life history."

Informant bared his teeth in warning. "Do you want to hold on to your remaining ear, Hunter?"

Allie followed the exchange with growing amusement. Finally, she jumped in between them. "Enough fighting, you two. Can't you get along for once?"

Hunter's head peeked from above her head to taunt Informant: "This is us getting along, isn't it, my _brave_ brother?"

Informant's eyes narrowed. In the next second, he jumped over Allie's body and landed onto Hunter's back. Hunter fell on his side and pawed Informant's head repeatedly. Then, the giant grey wolf and the black wolf tried to bite at each other's muzzles as they wrestled on the grass.

"Get him!" Pippin exclaimed to no one in particular as he prowled around the fighting wolves.

Allie followed the fight as well with a growing glint in her eyes. Finally, she let go of all dignified pretense. "It is my job as Queen to break down any discord among my own ranks," she declared with barely suppressed glee as she jumped in their midst.

She closed her fangs around Informant's hind leg and pulled him away. The black wolf growled indignantly at her and snapped at her face.

"How dare you show your fangs to your Queen?" Hunter roared as he crushed Informant under his weight and closed his jaw around the fur of his neck.

Pippin was running around the three of them, looking excitedly for an opening. "And my role as Protector of the Queen is telling that I must shield her from harm! Informant, you are being careless!"

He slid under Informant's belly and bit at the soft skin there.

Informant howled: "Three against one? Fine! I will show you what it means to mess with me!"

"You stole the words out of my mouth!" Allie growled as she took leverage on Hunter's back and charged down towards Informant. They both rolled on the ground and then bit at each other, teeth clashing against teeth, their wagging tails making small pebbles fly. Hunter and Pippin crashed into them from either side, and soon nothing distinctive could be seen except a blur of grey, auburn, black and gold as the four wolves growled and snarled and bit at each other, uprooting grass and lifting dust off the ground.

Councillor watched the four of them from his curled up position on the grass. He yawned widely as he rested his head on his forepaws.

Finally, the four wolves broke off, panting, as tiredness gained over playfulness. They all had scratches in their fur from the skirmish, and rested on the grass with their tongues hanging out.

Pippin reached out one last time and pawed Hunter on the head: "You made my leg bleed, you barbaric Haradrim!"

Hunter snapped back at him lazily.

"I've missed this," Allie said happily as she rolled on her back and curled against Pippin's side.

"Me too!" Pippin declared happily as he licked his leg. "It is not often that I get to bite Informant to my heart's content."

Hunter snorted. "It's as good a way as any to relieve stress."

"I would rather make a kill or two to relieve stress," Informant retorted as he stretched under the sun.

Councillor perked up at that. "Shall we go hunting? I am famished and I smell fresh prey nearby."

Allie and the core of the pack openly welcomed that suggestion. They hunted all afternoon, preying on unsuspecting sheep, wild boars and squirrels that had long since forgotten the fear of wolves. As the sun began to set, the five wolves settled under the shade of a patch of trees with their bellies full and with slumber edging ever closer to their appeased minds.

Allie was grooming herself under the dying rays of the setting sun when Pippin came to sit by her side. He started licking her neck, a spot that she couldn't reach, and she relaxed, letting him work his raspy tongue on her fur.

As she lay there half asleep, she let her consciousness carry her to the rest of the pack and was satisfied to note that most of her wolves were in a similar state of bliss as they napped after eating to their heart's content. Rohan's farmers were probably despairing at this very instant over the rapid demise of their cattle, but Allie was too happy and comfortable to feel guilty.

They slumbered until the sun set behind the hills and the moon slowly climbed up into the sky. As it happened, it was a night of full moon.

Allie was first to awake. She stared at the sleeping forms of the others for long moments, before she walked towards the edge of the hill and stared up at the moon from underneath the sparse boughs of the few trees growing behind her.

Suddenly, without warning, a long and haunting howl erupted out of her throat, echoing in the night.

One by one, Hunter, Pippin, Informant and Councillor opened their gleaming eyes. They sat upon their hindquarters, arched their heads back, exposed their hearts to the night and joined their voices to hers.

Soon enough, other howls arose in response all over Rohan as the wolves all came awake and started singing up to the full moon.

That night, King Theoden had organized a banquet to welcome all the free folk who had joined their cause. The Great Hall had been abuzz with song and conversation as Rohirrims, Gondorians, Elves, Dunedains, Hobbits and Corsairs sat together to share meal and mead.

At the haunting howl of the wolves, they all fell silent and listened, some in awe, some in unease. The howls were never-ending; as one wave seemed to die off, another rose in the distance and carried the song. Sometimes their voices seemed far away, as though they were miles away, and sometimes they seemed so close as though the wolves were outside their very windows.

In Gandalf's room, the Blood inside the flask pulsated in response.

The moon was shining down brightly over the plains, a giant disc shredding silver light onto every blade of grass, every rock and every leaf. Slowly, Allie fell silent and just enjoyed the peace and togetherness and warmth that the night brought with it.

As the last howl died away, she stood up and turned back towards the core of her pack, her eyes so silver as though having absorbed the moonlight itself.

Her voice was no longer playful nor easy-going when she spoke: "We have much to discuss and to do."

The four wolves leaders also knew that the time for games was over.

"I want a full report of our time apart," Allie started. "I will start with what happened to me."

For long minutes, the wolves listened as she recounted once more of her trials from Mordor to Isengard, and then finally to the safety of Rohan.

The wolves were silent for a long time after she told them about the mother of wolves and Sauron's soul.

"Bloody business," was all Hunter said when she was done.

Councillor nodded grimly. "I have known for a long time that the Blood was some other entity. But I never imagined it was to this degree. This can only mean one thing: we _have_ to kill Sauron. It does not seem like he knows much about this part of himself yet, but if he wins the war against humanity and learns of our secret, he will chase us down until the last one of us lies in the ground."

Allie nodded. "We cannot allow Sauron to live. It is him or us."

Informant suddenly started grinning. "Well, I'm glad that we have a personal reason for fighting him now!"

Pippin eyed him coldly. "So we didn't have a personal reason before? After what he did to Allie and Frodo in Barad-Dur?"

Informant rolled his eyes. "The Queen got herself into that mess all because of her Halfling mate. She was fighting for him, for his life, for his world."

The black wolf turned towards her squarely. "You were never fighting for us, for the wolves. Because you decided to fight, we had to join the fight as well, but it was all charity work for this cursed world. However, now things change. Now, we fight for our own sake, our own survival."

"As selfish as always," Allie said for only answer. "But well, I have grown accustomed to your views, so I'm glad that you will put your all into the upcoming war."

She turned towards Hunter, and the grey wolf stepped forward for his report. "After I saw Frodo and Sam safely into the tunnels, I told my unit to engage the Orcs from outside the citadel as I fought the Orcs from the top the tower housing the tombs of the Kings to the throne room below. The Hall of Kings was filled with corpses both of allies and enemies alike. I managed to kill a giant troll and made my way to the doors, but what I saw after I went outside…" He paused for a second. "I have never seen so much carnage in my entire life. The whole city was on fire and the screams of people dying arose from every corner. The air itself smelled of charred meat and death. And more Orcs were pouring in from the broken gates. Those cursed black beasts were also flying in the skies, sometimes diving down to take humans and wolves alike to drop them into the void below. I should have never ordered my unit to implicate themselves. I knew it was going to be one-sided, but I did not expect such rapid destruction. Minas Tirith is built against the mountains. I found a path that was not as stiff and climbed into the mountainside, thus escaping the oncoming wave of Orcs by a hair. However, by the time I told my wolves to pull back, it was already too late for most of them. It was a lack in judgement, and I apologize for the lives lost as a consequence."

He fell silent. Allie shook her head. "It was not your fault, Hunter. You were only doing what you had to. I should have been there to tell you to pull back. I knew Sauron's numbers and the cruelty that he is capable of inflicting."

Before Hunter could protest, she turned to Pippin.

The auburn wolf stepped forward. "I also asked my unit to engage the Orcs outside the citadel, trying to join with Hunter's unit, but the enemy was too overwhelming. We were lucky that one of the walls of Minas Tirith broke under the assault and cut off our path, or otherwise we might have engaged further and lost even more recruits. In any case, by then Hunter was also telling me to pull back and so I did." His green eyes gained a sparkle as he continued: "But the thing that I want to bring to this meeting the most is that I met with the Queen of the Rhovanion outside Mordor."

Allie sat straighter at that. "What?"

"She was a Wizard before she became a wolf, can you believe that?"

"A woman Wizard?" Informant cackled.

"My thoughts exactly."

"We do not know much about her," Councillor pondered. "We do not know where she stands in all of this."

"I offered her to join our cause," Pippin said, "but she disappeared without answering me. The only help she offered me was information that you were being brought to Isengard."

Allie nodded. So that was how Councillor knew where to find her. All the pieces of the puzzle were starting to assemble.

"How many in her pack?"

Pippin shook his head regretfully. "I saw a hundred wolves perhaps, but I can't be sure that it was her full force. She has this strange ability to conjure up white mist, and all her wolves were veiled by it when she came to me."

Informant grunted in displeasure. "She must be the only remaining Queen in Middle-earth other than you. I'm sure you have killed all the ones West of the Misty Mountains."

Allie was thoughtful. Another Queen. Another potential enemy. Or perhaps ally?

"She did not seem hostile," Pippin added. "The only thing she wants is to stay out of the upcoming war."

"A cowardly move," Hunter commented disdainfully.

"Perhaps it is because she doesn't know the true nature of the Blood," Allie pondered. "If she did, I wonder if she would still stay idle."

Her eyes scanned the wolves eagerly. "We have lost too many wolves this time. We could use an ally. Is it possible to find this Queen of Rhovanion?"

"She is unpredictable," Councillor responded. "Up until now, we did not even know for sure that she existed."

"Queens don't become allies with other Queens," Informant reprimanded her. "It is kill or be killed when you meet one. Haven't you learned this by now?"

"We can kill each other all we want after we defeat Sauron. I think we should be able to make peace against this common enemy."

"It does not always work like that." Councillor this time took Informant's side. "You might approach her with honourable intentions, but she might betray you in the end."

Allie sighed. They had a point.

"She did not seem like that to me," Pippin protested. "She did not seem to be the dishonourable type. If her intentions were not pure, why did she tell me where to find Allie?"

"Who knows what games she might be playing?" Hunter shook his head. "It is too risky to make contact with another Queen, _especially_ in these dark hours."

"And she used to be a Wizard," Councillor pondered. "I have respect for Mithrandir because he is allied to our cause, but we do not know on which side this woman Wizard is truly on. She might be a minion of Sauron. And what worries me the most is precisely the fact that she knew where to find you, Queen. Her powers are a mystery."

Allie was not convinced. They needed every possible ally right now. Desperate times called for desperate measures. However, finding this Queen was going to be difficult, and they probably had no time to spare for that entreprise in any case.

Relenting the argument, Allie turned towards Councillor. The brown wolf stepped forward. "I have nothing much to report. I stayed behind in Fangorn, trying to find out more about the Ent water, but all Treebeard knew was that it was used to put the old trees back to sleep. When the Ents drink it, it gives them nourishment and makes them strong. Other than that, he could not tell me how or why it affects the Blood. The Halfling Merry finally convinced the Ents to lay destruction to Orthanc, and it was in the aftermath of that battle that King Theoden's company found you in the tower."

The rest, he skipped, for they already knew what happened after that.

Finally, Allie turned towards Informant.

"I'm afraid I have not much to contribute," the black wolf said. "I went South for personal reasons. I killed the King of the Corsairs and claimed his title for myself. I found my son and am now training him for succession. It worries me that he is so weak, but during our skirmish with the Orcs, I saw a glimpse of a pirate in him. I suppose there's hope in him yet."

"So Sauron knows that the pirates have betrayed him?" Allie asked.

Informant's yellow eyes were disdainful. "Yes, not like it matters. He's coming to kill us all in any case."

"Was his army moving when you passed by Minas Tirith?"

"No movement then, but now, no one knows."

"So we still do not know when he will come to Rohan?" Allie sighed.

"No, we do not," Councillor conceded. "And so we have to start enacting a plan of counterattack as soon as possible."

"King Theoden has started one already," Allie announced. "At the last meeting, he said to dig trenches in the plains across the path that Sauron's army is likely to take. They will camouflage the holes in the hopes that the Orcs will fall in."

"Stupid!" Hunter exclaimed. "No Orc will fall for that."

"They will if it is dark and they are distracted," Allie retorted. "There will be an army posted nearby in the mountains. The only flaw with that plan is that it will not stop the Orcs for long. They are too many."

"It will only be one part of the plan," Councillor announced. He also had been privy to King Theoden's council and knew that they already had several strategies in place.

Hunter looked at Informant, and the black wolf looked back with the same glint of disapproval. Allie pawed the ground impatiently. "I see you are both finally agreeing on something, but what Theoden does is of secondary importance. We will have our own plan of attack depending on how things go. For now, there is one more question I want to ask you, Informant."

Informant's yellow eyes settled on her. "You have been drinking the Ent water continuously while you were on your ship, correct?"

"Yes,"

"Is the Ent water useless on you now?"

Informant swivelled his ears. "The amount of time in which I stay human shortens by half every time I drink the water. I managed to thirteen days in total while I travelled by ship. Now, if I drink it, it will most likely last me one day, and after that, I can't say."

"How many times have each of you drank it?" Allie asked her wolves.

"Once," Hunter growled.

"Twice," Pippin said.

"Twice," Councillor said.

Informant shrugged. "Three times."

"Three times and you are already running out of time?" Pippin asked with some alarm.

Informant started pacing impatiently. "Count for yourself, Protector. The first time it is seven days, after that four, after that two."

Pippin eyed Allie, but his Queen's eyes did not betray any emotion.

"Fine," it was all that she said, "that is useful information to know. One last thing. What about the Wargs?"

Her core of the pack looked at each other uncomfortably.

"Under whose command do they operate?" she asked again with an edge of coldness to her voice.

"Well..." Councillor was the one to speak up, "the trees of Fangorn did not give them permission to pass when my unit and I headed toward Isengard."

The golden wolf squinted her eyes. "And then?"

Councillor continued reluctantly: "The Wargs made a detour to bypass Fangorn from the North, and now they are north of here, in Rohan."

"My Queen," Hunter pleaded. "They are _Wargs._ They used to be Orcs before their transformation."

"And so you would abandon them, Hunter? Need I remind you that they helped the Men during the battle at Helm's Deep? They are part of our family now. Who they used to be in the past does not matter!"

"It is true," Pippin relented. "They might look hideous and smell terrible, but they are a part of our pack now, for better or for worse."

The golden wolf left her spot on top of their hill and started running down the gentle slope, towards the North.

"Queen, where are you going?" Informant snapped after her.

"Where else?" Pippin answered for her as he ran after her. "She is going to meet the Wargs."

Informant rolled his eyes. "Of all the calamities…"

"She has a point, I suppose," Councillor conceded. "Wolves do not discriminate against other wolves, or have you forgotten that now that you have lived thirteen days as a Man?"

Hunter followed after Councillor silently and Informant closed the group with a resigned growl.

They ran tirelessly for an hour or so when they first smelled the stench coming off the Wargs. There were thirty of them or so, huddled together in a circle of rocks not far from a river coursing nearby. Allie stopped a few paces from them and felt pity took hold of her as she saw their ragged and dirty fur and ominously glowing eyes. They were larger in size than most of the normal wolves, although Hunter still towered over them.

One of the Wargs extricated himself from the group and trotted towards them, limping a little. "Queen?" he asked in a small and nasal voice.

Informant was eyeing them with open disgust. "I'm not taking charge of them and that is final."

Hunter was also visibly repressing the urge to bare his fangs. "After years of killing each other, it will not be easy to accept them as part of our pack."

The golden wolf ignored them both and advanced towards the Warg on silent paws.

"Queen?" the Warg repeated with his head hung low as a shiver coursed through him, whether fear or cold she could not tell.

His ribcage was showing as he breathed in and out, and Allie pondered that game must not have been as easy to find this far North. Furthermore, most of the Wargs were still injured from the battle at Helm's Deep.

Other Wargs have joined the first one now and they all hovered in front of her on trembling legs, with their muzzle close to the ground as a sign of submission. They looked disoriented, and Allie knew why. After years of being forced into servitude by the mother of wolves, after years of obeying the Orcs and Uruk-hai, they were now suddenly freed from all influence and were now lost in this new world of freedom. Few of them probably even remembered that they used to be Orcs.

"Raise your heads," Allie intimated in a strong voice.

The Wargs looked at each other, and slowly, they lifted their heads up inch by inch, as though they were made of rocks instead of flesh.

"What are you?" she asked them without preamble.

The Wargs looked at each other again uncertainly.

"Wargs," one of them answered in a small voice.

"And what are Wargs?" Allie asked again.

None of them answered. A glint of fury entered her silver eyes. "I said, what are Wargs?" she howled at them with fangs bared.

They recoiled at this onslaught.

"They might be a lost cause," Councillor spoke up slowly.

Allie ignored him. "What are Wargs?" she asked again, softer but with the same intent.

"Wargs are wolves," one of them answered hesitantly.

The golden wolf's eyes zeroed in on him. "That is right. Wargs are wolves. And wolves are predators, fierce and proud and strong creatures who bow to no one." Allie started pacing in front of the huddled Wargs as she spoke. "You are wolves, all of you. So why do you cower like lost puppies with your tails in between your legs? Why do you shiver and tremble in fear? Why do you look like rabid dogs and smell like the Dead Marshes?"

She nudged one with her muzzle. "I know you used to have your food handed to you by those who rode you and tamed you like beasts, but you are tamed beasts no longer! You are free predators now! You are the top of the food chain. When you are hungry, you hunt for prey. When your territory is threatened, you fight to the death with your fangs and claws. When you are lonely, you sing to the moon and have your brothers answer you!"

She stopped her pace and bore her silver eyes into theirs. "That is how it is done in my pack, and whether you like it or not, you are part of my pack now, so start acting like true wolves!"

As she spoke, all the Wargs little by little stood a little straighter, and a firm glint which had not been present before started to appear in those glowing eyes. Allie felt adrenaline start to rush through their veins as they seemed to come awake into this world at last.

One Warg looked up at the moon and let out a hesitant howl; a short, broken thing that ended in a whimper. However, another Warg soon followed suit and carried the first Warg's voice. Allie sat back and let her long, haunting and musical howls join those of the Wargs, lifting their broken voices and letting the wind carry them far.

By the end of it, the core of her pack had joined in as well, for that was the power of a wolf's song to the moon. It held an irresistible spark to those animals of the night.

When finally their second song of the night ended, the Wargs stood straight and tall and the golden wolf silently paced amongst them. Finally, she reached the Warg who had initially answered her question and gently rubbed her head against his.

"Now that we have sung together," she told him gently, "we are truly one family. Take pride in yourself, become strong again, groom your fur and follow my lead. If you do that, I will never forsake you."

The Warg let his rough head rest against hers. "Yes, Queen!" he swore eagerly.

"Yes, Queen," the other Wargs repeated solemnly.

Pippin stepped up behind her. "Come," he beckoned them joyfully. "I will teach you how to hunt again. The game here is plentiful."

Hunter studied them as well with his only eye. "I will hunt with you as well."

The Wargs looked over at Allie. She nodded to them all. "Go."

As the Wargs left after Hunter and Pippin, the golden wolf slowly turned away from the scene and walked beside Informant back towards Edoras.

For once, the black wolf was silent.

When they arrived in sight of the Corsair ships, Informant turned one yellow eye towards her. "You will have to teach me how to do that," he conceded hoarsely.

Allie tried to detect the usual sarcasm in his voice, but it was nowhere to be found. She bit back her own sarcastic remark and slowly came to face him.

"How to do what?"

Informant looked towards the dormant ships. "How to make others follow your orders. How to gain their loyalty." He looked back at her. "The only way I know is fear."

Her eyes softened. "Are you thinking of your son?"

Informant's eyes were sullen. "And you have to tell me how you read my thoughts like that as well."

She sat beside him. "It is clear to me from the look in your eyes. Don't you know that a wolf's expressions always show in his eyes?" She sighed. "I can see that you deeply care for your son. If you want him to trust you, you have to trust him first. You have to tell him what is really in your heart."

She could see he was struggling to hold back on one of his usual cynical remarks.

"That is a vague answer," he opted to let out grumpily.

"Not everything is as clean-cut as a kill," she replied. "What are you really afraid of, Informant?"

"Nothing!" he retorted fiercely.

"I think I know what it is," she pursued as though he had not spoken. She planted her frank gaze in his. "You loved another with all your heart once, but you lost her. I can only imagine how painful that must have been. You swore to yourself that you would never care for another person again so as to shield yourself from that kind of pain."

Informant's eyes were shaking with resentment, but he said nothing.

"In a way," she added, "you remind me of my own father."

At this, Informant finally let up on his boiling frustration somewhat. "Your father?"

"He lost my mother when I was born," she explained. "He never recovered from that. He probably shielded his heart away, just like you did, and that made him become a bitter person. But you are different from him," she added firmly. "You are willing to reach out to your child, to make him strong, to teach him how this world works. That is something my father was never willing to do for me."

"Are you trying to say your past is more terrible than mine?" he commented with his usual grin.

His grin faded, however, when she rested her head against his shoulder. "I am saying that we all have something in our past that we wish we could eradicate, but we should not let it ruin our present. You were the one who taught me that wolves live in the present."

"Yes, I suppose I have forgotten it for a while," he answered slowly.

She pressed away from him. "Show your son that you care, Informant. We don't have much time left anymore."

After saying that, she left him by the docks and trotted away. Informant watched her leave until she disappeared amidst the shadowy sea of Rohirrim tents.

Allie found Frodo asleep by a dying campfire, with Tania huddled close to him. Sam and Merry were by his side, rolled in their respective blankets, also deep in slumber. In fact, Sam was snoring away like a seal.

She looked around at the dormant camp; there seemed to have been some kind of festivity out here and inside the Great Hall as well. She could smell the scent of beer in the air, as well as the remnants of roasted beef, lamb and horse.

She watched them sleep tenderly for a moment, before she silently made her way towards Frodo's side. She gently nudged his face with her nose, until he shifted uneasily and lifted one hand to weakly shove her muzzle away.

"No, no more," he muttered.

She poked at him again, slightly amused. Frodo frowned and he suddenly buried his hand deep in her fur and pulled with all his strength.

"No more!" he yelled in his sleep.

Allie let out an involuntary yelp of pain and Frodo's eyes snapped open as he lay there panting with his hand still in her fur.

His eyes slowly fell on the wolf's stunned eyes, and he let go of her quickly when recognition settled in his traits. He looked down at his palm and saw that there were strands of golden fur stuck to his palm.

"Allie," he breathed, "I… I'm sorry."

He looked around, but no one seemed to have been awoken by his outburst. The golden wolf nudged his face again with concern, her nose cold against his cheek. Frodo sat up a little and brushed the place where he had pulled at her fur. "It was just a dream. Don't worry."

Allie hunched low in front of him, inviting him to climb on her back. Frodo took her up on her invitation, and soon enough they had left the camp behind to come to a relatively quiet area of the plains. Frodo slid down from her flank and went to sit on top of a flat rock with a sigh. He was looking up at the starry skies when Allie settled down all around him comfortably, with her body wound around his legs.

Her back rose and fell steadily with each of her breaths.

Frodo ran a hand through the fur of her back absent-mindedly. "I had a dream about the Ring," he finally confessed. "It's been happening quite often as of late."

Her clear silver eyes looked up at his face. "I think Sauron is on the move," he added dryly. "The image of the Ring is growing larger in my mind."

Allie watched his pale face for a moment more before she rose a little on her hindquarters and then let her weight fall on him, pushing him to the ground. "What are you doing that for?" he exclaimed as she started licking at his face ferociously.

Frodo blinked away the wolf saliva and tried to push her muzzle away. "Oh, stop it, will you? I will smell like wolf again!"

Allie went on licking him quite happily and obliviously until Frodo closed his arms around her like a vise and rolled her over until he was lying on her belly.

"Stop it!" he repeated laughingly. "First you disturb my sleep, and now this? It must be the full moon tonight."

He lifted his head and managed to make out the full moon lower down the sky. "I knew it!" he proclaimed with a sigh.

Allie stopped her antics and lay quiet on the ground, her eyes bright and attentive. Frodo caressed her behind the ears and then scratched her belly as she kicked her legs up in the air passively. "I heard you singing. You must have enjoyed your time with the wolves."

At this, she perked up a bit and rolled over to rest her head on his lap. Frodo continued scratching her behind the ears as he leaned back against the rock and let his gaze wander up to the stars once more.

He was about to drift off to sleep again when Allie's fur suddenly bristled under his fingers as a low growl escaped her throat.

Frodo was immediately alert, his heart pounding.

His first thought was that Sauron was here. He was here and he had caught them completely off guard!

But then he saw it; a strange white mist was materializing over their camp, eating away at the tents, the sleepers, the golden castle on its hill, and the night sky itself. The tongues of fog rose from the earth, swirling around their feet like immaterial waves.

Frodo climbed up on Allie's back on reflex, swearing when his hand did not encounter Sting, which he had left back around the campfire.

"What is this, Allie?" he pressed the wolf.

Allie sniffed at the quickly incoming wave of mist; it did not smell damp like usual mists did. In fact, this mist had no smell at all, as though it was not there. Nonetheless, her eyes were telling her that it was enveloping them like a cloud right now. He felt Frodo pressing himself against her back nervously.

"Pippin! Where are you? Are you seeing this?" she called out through the Blood.

"See what?" Pippin replied from a few miles away.

"Look towards Edoras!" she urged him impatiently. "There is a strange mist enveloping the entire city!"

Pippin was on his guard now. His green eyes scanned the plains to the south, but the night was clear and he could even see the small dark dot of Meduseld castle on top of the hill.

"There is no mist, Allie!"

"Impossible!" she snarled back. "It's all around me! I can't see more than a few feet ahead, and I can't smell anything. This is not natural." She enlarged the conversation to reach every wolf of the pack. "Come to me!"

"Allie, look!" Frodo whispered in her ear and pointed.

The golden wolf followed his finger and saw four legged animals approaching in the mist. Were her wolves coming to her already? No, it was too fast to be them.

Her conversation with Pippin concerning the Queen of Rhovanion flashed through her mind and cold dread enveloped her entire being. Was this the Queen? Why had she come?

She slowly backed away, one paw after the other. She could have sworn that she would eventually meet the rock against which Frodo and she had been resting moments before, but her paws kept encountering empty ground in the mist.

The terrible feeling that she was backing away into the void overwhelmed her. She forced herself to stand firm. On her back, Frodo pressed his knees against her flanks, ready to jump off if she needed to fight.

"Who are you to come thus uninvited?" she barked into the mist. "Reveal yourself!"

"Glor Bereth," a musical voice came from the mist, seemingly from everywhere at once.

She looked around with a harsh glint in her eyes. "Queen of the Rhovanion," she called out. "Reveal yourself."

The tongues of mist seemed to thin and recede, until they all concentrated in the same spot and became a wolf with snow-white fur.

Allie's eyes narrowed at the sight of the smaller she-wolf and struggled to keep her fur from bristling in challenge. How many years had it been since she had come face to face with another Queen?

_Kill her_, her instincts told her. Or perhaps was it the voice of the Blood?

She scanned the surroundings for the presence of other wolves, but the Queen seemed to be alone.

"I hear that you met with my Protector," Allie started guardedly.

"Indeed," the white wolf answered pleasantly. "He is a gentle soul." Her blue eyes rested upon Frodo still perched on her back. "Could that be the Ring-bearer I have heard so much about?"

"Where have you heard that? No, never mind that! Just tell me what business you have with me tonight," Allie demanded brusquely without detours, refusing to let herself be pulled into the Queen's mind games.

The white wolf prowled in gentle circles around them. "Such a careful one you are, Glor Bereth. Well, did your Protector tell you that he offered me to join forces with you against the darkness that is coming?"

Allie remained expressionless. "Are you telling me that you are taking him up on his offer?"

"If I did, what would you say?"

"I would not decline your help, for these are desperate times. But why did you suddenly decide to involve yourself?"

The Queen of Rhovanion planted her sky-blue eyes in Allie's. Her voice was no longer gentle, but cutting as a blade as she proclaimed, "Sauron has split his army in three. One will come straight at you from the Great West Road, one will strike Dunharrow, and from there, close in on Edoras from behind. And the last army, shrouded in treachery, will cross the Snowbourn and come at you from the North, where they expect to catch you off guard. They not only have Orcs, goblins and giant trolls, but the Southrons allied with the Dark Lord will bring an army of Oliphaunts. The Nazgul will attack from the skies. War engines and catapults are heading your way by the hundreds. They have been designed to split the earth open and devour the world in flames. And Sauron, in addition to the One Ring, has acquired a large beast, a beast of shadow and fire. They have but one single thought: to crush the world of Men and Elves and yes, even wolves."

She was very close now, her blue eyes hypnotizing: "If I had not given you this information, your allies would have been caught between the anvil and the hammer. Sauron is more cunning than you think."

Frodo tugged fiercely at her neck and she blinked to snatch herself out of her trance. All the information had her mind reeling; so much power and destruction heading their way? Would they really be able to weather this storm? She retreated out of the white wolf's reach and asked: "And Sauron himself? Where will he be? And what is this beast that he's acquired?"

The other Queen slowly licked her muzzle. "That is all I foresaw. Around Sauron, the shadows deepen. There are certain things that even I cannot see."

Frodo carefully glided down from Allie's back and stood stiffly next to her. "Is everything all right?" he asked in her ear.

She gave his shoulder a reassuring nudge.

"What do you fear?" the Queen asked curiously. "Do you fear that I am lying to you, and that I am on Sauron's side?"

The golden wolf's eyes narrowed: "You would suspect the same thing if you were in my stead. You told my Protector that you would not involve yourself, but now you are here, offering this information. What has changed?"

"Nothing but my mind. You will have to accept my words as the truth if you want to receive my help and that of my pack."

When her words died down, several glinting eyes appeared in the night around them.

Allie scanned their surroundings carefully, counting perhaps ten pairs of gleaming eyes. Was this a threat?

"No need to stand so stiff, Glor Bereth. Here, as a token of my good faith, I shall leave in your care something of great value to me."

The snow-white wolf lifted her head, exposing her throat and the steel necklace buried in the fur of her neck. The metal clasps shone silver even in the dark, and a white gemstone encrusted in the middle of that complicated collar sparkled like a star.

"This stone pertained to my Wizard staff in the young days before my transformation. It is the source of my power."

Allie did not hide her astonishment. "And you will give it to me?"

"For safe-keeping, until we can reach a common agreement."

"Fine, take it off."

The white wolf shook her head. "I cannot. Human hands put it there and human hands must take it away."

Her blue eyes rested upon Frodo. "Why don't you send forth the Ring-bearer? The mechanism is easy to handle."

Allie stood in front of Frodo protectively, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "That will never happen!"

"You still do not trust me," the Queen remarked, all melody gone from her voice.

"I do not trust any Queen," Allie bit back.

Frodo looked at the hostile posture of both wolves with growing apprehension. He had witnessed a Queen fight when he was young, and even though back then he had been very sick, he still vividly remembered how red their blood had seemed upon the white snow.

He didn't want Allie to get hurt like that again.

"There is a simpler way for you to show your good faith," Allie spoke slowly.

The Queen's eyes sparkled in interest. "Oh?"

The golden wolf looked over her shoulder and a small brown recruit appeared from the shadows. The white Queen's eyes narrowed at the sight of him.

"Surely you did not think my wolves would have left me alone with you?" Allie asked a bit sarcastically. "Contrary to your wolves showing off their presence, mine have been hiding up wind from here, where you cannot smell them."

The brown recruit dropped a waterskin on the ground in front of the golden wolf.

"You know what this is, don't you, Queen of Rhovanion?" Allie proceeded. "Show me your good faith and drink it."

This time, it was her turn to prowl around the white wolf, her silver eyes bearing down on her. "If you are truly a Queen, you know how dangerous it is for us to stay together in our wolf forms. If a Death Match is initiated between us by the Blood, one of us will die. We shall both drink this and talk in our other shapes."

She stopped in front of her equal. "If you truly mean well, then drink!"

The white wolf suddenly let out a bark of laughter. "Very well, young Queen, I shall do as you say."

She punctured the waterskin with her paw and let the clear water spurt into her jaw. After Allie made sure that she had indeed swallowed the water, she bent down and lapped up the last few drops.

After that, they both sat and waited in silence.

When the horizon was turning red with the imminent rise of the sun, Allie was first to resume her hobbit shape.

Frodo fetched a blanket from a nearby tent in which Rohirrim riders were still sleeping; he crouched beside her naked form and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders; she smiled at him briefly before reporting her attention onto the Queen. The white wolf let out a growl as its shape seemed to waver. Slowly, her fur receded as well, and her shape blurred for a moment before the Queen of Rhovanion appeared before them in her human form.

She was on her hands and knees. Long silver hair cascaded down her small and wrinkled frame.

When she looked up, Frodo and Allie found themselves staring into the face of an old woman. Only her blue eyes seemed young, with a light that seemed almost child-like in contrast with the rest of her body.

Another white wolf appeared next to her with a grey blanket in his jaw. The old woman took it and slowly wrapped it around herself. Her wolf collar now hung loosely around her thin neck. She closed her hands on its cold surface and passed it around her head with difficulty.

"I am not used to moving in this strange body anymore," she announced with a touch of marvel in her ageless voice. "I have heard of this water, but a part of me never truly believed in its power until now."

She stared down at her wrinkled hands. "This body has aged much. I do not even recognize it anymore."

Allie slowly stood up on her legs as the morning light started eating away at the shadows of the night, and the campers a few miles away from them started to stir awake, unaware of what had just transpired in their vicinity.

"Come, we should go to the castle," Allie told the other Queen. "There, you can tell King Theoden and his council what you have just told me."

The old woman rose with some difficulty, and the white wolf immediately offered his back as a crutch on which she could take support. She handed the collar with the white gemstone to Allie, and the latter took it from her hands carefully. The collar was heavier than it looked.

"I did not know she was this old," Frodo whispered to Allie on their way to Meduseld.

"Neither did I," Allie confessed. "But at least she will not be a threat for the next seven days. She told me Sauron's army is four days away, so if she is planning some mischief, she will not be able to carry through with it with her full power. But Sauron is so close, Frodo!"

Frodo looked worried, but then he squeezed her hand. "We will be ready by then, Allie. We must."

* * *

Gandalf greeted them somberly at the entrance of Meduseld, probably having felt the arrival of the Queen of Rhovanion.

"Mithrandir," the woman Wizard greeted him with a knowing smile and a sparkle in her eye.

Gandalf's eyes widened slightly in astonishment. "Atariel!" he greeted back with an awe that he could not hide.

The old woman let go of the white wolf and gave her hand to Gandalf instead. A soft light entered her eyes. "Yes," she whispered almost dreamily. "Atariel, that was my name."

"You two know each other?" Frodo inquired.

Gandalf nodded. "We met a long time ago. I did not know she was still of this world."

"Probably because she became a Queen of wolves. She has information for us," Allie explained. "You should take her to see King Theoden, Gandalf."

From the corner of her eye, she spotted a silhouette hovering near the entrance to the Grand Hall, eavesdropping on their conversation.

Gandalf noticed as well, but paid no heed to the intruder. Instead, he took Atariel's frail arm and they started walking together towards the King's quarters. Frodo was about to follow them when the silhouette detached himself from the shadows and walked towards them hesitantly. Frodo's eyes brightened at the sight of the young pirate boy.

"Gritt!" he exclaimed.

Allie looked at him curiously. He had a line between his jade eyes and a frown that seemed to be permanently etched onto his eyebrows. His hair was dark and slightly wavy.

"Frodo," Gritt acknowledged, and then he set his eyes on her again.

Frodo suddenly remembered promising him to introduce him to the Queen of Informant's pack. He placed a hand on Allie's shoulder and said: "Gritt, I want you to meet Allie, the Queen of wolves."

Gritt's jaw dropped a little as his eyes widened. For a moment, he sized her up and down, taking in her wild hair, placid eyes and the blanket that served as only garment for her small stature.

"You must be joking!" he finally exclaimed in disbelief. "This is but a child!"

"I am fairly certain that I am older than you," Allie replied after sharing a look with Frodo.

Frodo waved his hands in a sign of peace. "We are Halflings, Gritt. We are older than we look."

Gritt was still frowning when Frodo caught sight of Gandalf and Atariel disappearing at a bend of the Hall. In fact, he was very much interested to hear what she had to say, since he had missed her wolf exchange with Allie earlier.

He drew close to Allie and whispered in her ear: "He is Informant's son. He wishes to speak to you. Be good to the boy."

Allie rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to eat him, if that's what you fear."

Frodo smiled against her cheek. "That is good to know. I will go with Gandalf and that other Queen. I'm interested in what King Theoden will make of her information."

Allie nodded and reported her gaze back onto Gritt as Frodo sprinted away to catch up with Gandalf.

There was a moment of awkward silence between the boy and the hobbit as they both stood there with the sun started to rise in the East, casting a slit of white light through the castle door left ajar.

Allie studied the boy with some degree of curiosity.

"So you are Informant's son," she started slowly. "I thought you would still be with the ships."

"I moved to the castle last night when Lady Eowyn brought that injured Gondorian Man here."

Allie had no idea who he was talking about, but she nodded at his words.

"Why do you call my father informant?" Gritt asked abruptly. "His name is Prince Urithor."

Allie started walking along the main hallway of the castle, and Gritt quickly followed after her.

"You can think of Informant as his wolf name," she said without looking back. "It is the only name that I know him by, for it is the only name he has ever given me. I have known him for twenty years, but not once did he talk about his past with me. I didn't even know he had a son, until now."

"It sounds like my father," Gritt grunted. And then: "Where are you going?"

They passed by the Great Hall then, where remnants of the banquet from the night before still lay scattered around. Amongst those remnants were Gimli and Eomer, both snoring loudly with pints of half finished beer on the table in front of them.

Allie paused and looked at the scene with a slight smile on her lips. "Did you enjoy the festivities last night?" she asked the boy.

Gritt was taken aback at the change in topic. He shuffled on his feet. "Yes, I suppose. It was all a little forced, however."

One grey eye peeked at him. "Forced?"

Gritt crossed his arms. "Yes, well, all the folk were forcing themselves to get to know each other and to act cheerful, but deep down everyone was well aware that this was probably the last time we get to eat and celebrate."

Allie was pleasantly surprised at his perceptive nature. In truth, she was not surprised at all to hear that the atmosphere had been like that. She suspected Merry probably did his best to entertain everyone with songs from the Shire, but even his heart must have been heavy as well.

The way that Gritt spat out the truth without thinking about it twice reminded her of Informant. He was definitely the black wolf's progeny.

"So what is it that you really want to ask me, Gritt?" she let out as she leaned against the door to the Great Hall.

Gritt met her grey eyes and found heat rising to his cheeks in spite of himself. "So it is true that you are my father's leader?"

"Yes and no," she replied simply. "The hierarchy of wolves is a complicated system, one that I have no time to explain to you in detail right now. All packs need a leader in title, and I am it. But I regard your father and the others as my equals. I value their opinion and I consult them regarding all the important decisions. Your father and three others are leaders themselves amidst the pack."

"But you have the last word," the boy's jade eyes were riveted on her face.

"Yes," she answered simply once more.

Gritt snatched his gaze away brusquely. "I have a hard time imagining my father complying with anyone else's orders. I have not known him for long, but I can see that at least."

Allie then knew what was really on the boy's mind. Somewhere deep in his heart, he was aware that his time with his father was starting to trickle away now, like sand in an hourglass. He was desperate to know him, to know what his father really thought of him.

Gritt startled when he felt her hand on his shoulder. There was a smile on her face as she tapped his shoulder twice and then let her hand fall. "Yes, you have seen right. In truth, your father rarely listens to me, and most of the time we are fighting because of our strong differences in opinion. He is strong-willed and full of his own convictions. He puts up such a thick façade that he seems cold and implacable to others, but he cares, in his own way."

Gritt bit his lip and thought back to all his interactions with his father on their ship ride here, but he couldn't remember a single instance in which his father seemed to care.

"Do you love the parents who have raised you?" Allie's voice snatched him away from his thoughts.

"Yes," he answered slowly. "They are only fishermen, but they have always treated me right. My mother used to read me stories when I was little, and my father always saved the best parts of the fish he caught for me to eat. They were crying when the pirates took me away."

Suddenly, his eyes filled with tears, which he wiped away furiously.

"And you wish Urithor would do the same as your other father," Allie concluded softly with a sigh.

Gritt turned away from her and from the sight of the spent banquet behind her. "I know he will never love me. I am only a stranger to him. He only wants me to take over his ships when he can no longer turn back to being human. Well, he can dream! I am going home after all this is over, and I will not spare a second look to his wrecked ships which stink of blood!" He finished his last word as a yell that echoed in the Great Hall.

A few feet away, Eomer groaned and turned his face the other way as he continued sleeping on the table.

"Your father cares for you in his own way…" Allie started.

"Enough of that!" Gritt shouted as he turned towards her. "In his own way that remains invisible to me? That is the same as him not caring at all."

Allie placed a strand of hair behind her ear, thinking of how she could explain things to this young lost boy.

Gritt protested when she took hold of his wrist, but she simply reaffirmed her hold and tugged at him until she led him to one of the windows giving down to the courtyard below.

Gritt watched as she looked out of the window. The furious words of protest at being brought here against his will died in his throat when he saw the tender smile that came onto her face. He looked in the direction she was looking at and saw a small pack of wolves down in the courtyard by the castle, lying on their bellies, basking in the dawn with their eyes closed.

With a tug to his heart, he recognized his father amongst them. His black fur shone brightly in the light of morning, and Gritt had never seen him look so peaceful and so small as he snuggled close to two other wolves with his eyes shut. As though feeling Gritt's eyes on him, the black wolf suddenly lifted his head and peered up at their window with yellow eyes.

Gritt drew back in a hurry behind the cover of the wall.

"There is a side of him that you do not know," Allie started gently. "And of course, there is a side of you that he does not know either. He loved your mother with all his heart, Gritt, and when he lost her, a part of him died with her. When he became a wolf, he chose to throw away his past and all the memories that came with it. Can you blame him? He must have been in such pain. But by throwing away his past, he also closed off his heart to everything and everyone. While your adoptive mother read your stories and your adoptive father fed you, your father was on his own after he had lost everything. The only thing he had was being a wolf, and he devoted himself to that task with more passion than any other wolf I know."

Gritt's eyes were very deep as he listened to her. Allie slowly let go of his wrist when he was no longer making efforts to break free.

"The wolves share a link of consciousness, and so I know how your father feels about you. I know you cannot partake in that same link, so you will have to take my word for it. But he does care about you, Gritt. Not just because he wants you to inherit the ships, but because he truly wants you to become a man strong enough to face anything that this world throws at you. And the only way he knows to how express that desire is through cynical words and harsh commands because he has forgotten how else to say what is in his heart."

Gently, she pushed Gritt until he was standing in front of the window again. The boy gripped the edge with both hands and forced himself to look down at the courtyard.

Informant was no longer lying down, but standing up, with his muzzle lifted towards the window.

Allie put a hand on his shoulder and smiled a bit sadly. "He does not have much time left as a Man. If he drinks the water again, he will go back to being human for one last day. Please be patient with him, Gritt. I know how consternating his actions can be, but still, do not be angry at him. Do not hate him."

Gritt's mouth worked, and then he pressed his hands against his eyes as silent tears ran down his cheeks. Allie said nothing, but simply stood behind him with her hand on his heaving shoulder.

After awhile, Gritt recomposed himself and turned away from the window. The black wolf was no longer in the courtyard.

Without a word, he turned away from Allie and started down the hallway. Allie watched him leave as she clasped the blanket around her body and wondered whether he had been convinced by her words.

Then, just before he walked out of earshot, he paused and said without turning back: "Thank you for telling me about my father."

Allie smiled at his back. "You are welcome."

After that, Allie walked back to Frodo's room, intending to go change into the new set of clothes she had purchased in Rohan. After all, she could not spend her day wrapped in only a blanket. As she walked along the hallways interspersed with windows from which the early morning sunlight pierced through as rectangles of light, she couldn't help but feel happy about the discussion she'd had with Gritt.

Gritt was a good boy; he was passionate about the things he cared about, just like Informant was. She could see the resemblance in character. If father and son could manage to understand each other, she would be ecstatic for them both.

As she skipped from one rectangle of light to the next, her thoughts suddenly turned towards her own father. Would she see him again? Would she even want to? What would she say to him if she did? Even if he remembered her, he would welcome her with nothing but hatred, she was sure.

The thought was not so disconsolate anymore. Besides, she had a feeling that she would never again return to the Shire, no matter what the outcome of this war would be.

Suddenly, she stopped cold in her tracks. The hackles at the back of her neck bristled as her fingers clutching at her blanket turned cold.

She was standing in one of the rectangles of sunlight, but the warmth of the sun could no longer reach her. She didn't know how long she stood there, with one foot in front of the other, frozen in mid-step.

Birds were chirping right outside the window, and a spring breeze carried in the scent of firewood and the murmurs of conversation from the folk coming awake. However, she remained deaf and unfeeling to them all.

Slowly, very slowly, she turned hollow eyes onto the door at her right, standing there ominously opposite the hallway window.

The door hung ajar, and the darkness beyond beckoned.

Allie forced herself to swallow and stammered towards that door. She lifted a hand to push it all the way open; as she did so, she faintly registered the gooseflesh now covering her forearm.

The door slid open without a sound, giving into an empty and ordinary room. Allie scanned it from corner to corner, but except for a bed, a night table and a closet, it was empty. The feeling of horror that had lodged itself deep inside her chest refused to leave, however.

The sheets looked used, as though someone had slept in them. She wanted to run away from that room, but instead her feet carried her forward and into the gloom.

She walked until she reached the closet at the far end. She held on to the latch with her heart galloping in her throat, and pulled on it. The creaking sound of the hinges seemed to go on forever in the empty room until finally the closet lay wide open like the gaping mouth of some monster.

Inside it stood a shelf.

On that shelf were two objects wrapped in white clothes. One was circular in shape, and the other irregular-looking, like a bottle.

"No," Allie whispered to herself.

But her hand seemed to rise by itself to reach for the bottle-shaped object. She took it down from the shelf and unwrapped the cloth with fingers that felt rigid with frost. When the white sheet fell away at her feet, she suppressed the urge to scream.

She was holding the flask with a puddle of Blood inside.

She recognized it now.

How could she have even forgotten that Gandalf had pulled it out of her?

The Blood inside twirled lazily, layers upon layers of viscous and slimy red. At the back of her mind, someone was singing a song, which she recognized and remembered it at once. That voice belonged to the minstrel who had kept her prisoner in her own mind.

The melody started fluctuating inside her mind, now fast, now slow.

Allie didn't know for how long she stood there in Gandalf's room, holding on to the bottle of Blood, until the melody inside her head morphed into words.

_"__Allie,"_ it said. _"Allie. Allie. Allie."_

"Blood," the word fell from Allie's lips like a stone.

_"__Put me back together, Allie."_

The hobbit drew in a shuddering breath and forced clarity to come back to her mind. She had sworn she would not let it take over her again. She put the flask back on the shelf and wiped her hands on the blanket as though she had just touched a spider.

_"__To avoid death, you must put me back together."_

"No," she murmured. "I am done listening to you!"

_"__Allie. Allie. Allie,"_ it sang_. "Frodo is going to die."_

She covered her ears with both hands and glared at the flask of Blood. "Lies!" she shouted. "That is not going to happen!"

_"__Do not misunderstand me. I am on your side. I am warning you. None of the Ring-bearers will live. _He_ will not let them live. You know whom I speak of."_

"Lies and more lies," Allie snarled. "You are not on my side!"

_ "__I know of your plans. What you wish for can only happen if you put me back together."_

Allie dug her nails into her palm. "I will only do that as last resort. I only need to swallow you then, don't I?"

_"__Allie. Allie. Not just me. You know what you must do."_

Horror and disgust sank her teeth into her. "No," she whimpered. "No, I will never do that! I cannot possibly do that!"

_"__What is wrong, Allie? You have been doing it all along."_

For a long time, she stood silent in front of that shelf. Then, she lifted her head and closed her hand around the cold glass of the flask. Its touch made her shudder, but she did not take her hand away. "If I put you back together, you will leave the wolves?"

_"__Yes."_

"What will become of us then?"

_"__You will forget me. Forget yourselves. Forget everything. You all died already the day you were bitten. I am the only power that anchors your consciousness to this earthly body. Without me as the anchor, you will go wherever souls go after death."_

Allie's knees started buckling, but she held on to that flask and glared at the Blood. "And what of this wolf body?"

_"__The wolf body will go on existing as a wolf. But you, Allie, you will cease to exist. And so will all the others. Everything comes with a price, Allie."_

When she remained silent, the Blood added: _"You understand now?"_

Suddenly, a stillness came over her. A wave of calmness. Her eyes were very big as she studied the swirling Blood inside the flask. "Yes, you have made yourself clear," she answered in a stranger's voice. "I have only one question."

_"What is it?"_

Allie started speaking, and the Blood listened.

* * *

Allie stopped outside the door to Frodo's room and stood looking at a scratch in the wood for long seconds. Finally, she pushed it open silently and paused on the threshold looking in.

Frodo was already back from the meeting with Gandalf, Theoden and Atariel. He stood pensively at the window with his back to the door. The morning breeze made his dark curls tumble.

He startled and then smiled when he felt familiar arms wrap around his torso from behind. He placed his hand on top of hers.

"Did you just finish talking with Gritt?" he asked.

"Mmhm," she mumbled.

Frodo was surprised. "That was a long talk. What did you discuss with him?"

"His father," she answered into his back.

Frodo felt her shift behind him, and then her lips were against his neck. He couldn't help smiling as he turned around to face her.

Her grey eyes had a naked look to them that gave him pause.

"How did it go with King Theoden?" she asked before he could inquire further.

Frodo's eyes became serious again. "Atariel's information will prove valuable in planning our strategy. Theoden will finish the preparations and we will start moving the troops by tonight. Legolas was there as well, and he suggested an interesting idea. Did you know that Rohan has catapults? Well, he thinks…"

Allie suddenly drew him close and cut him off with a kiss. When Frodo recovered from his surprise, he cupped her chin and kissed her back with a small laugh.

"You little brat, why did you ask me how it went if you are not interested in the answer?"

However, Allie wasn't smiling. "Frodo," she started, and then bit her lip.

"What is it?" Frodo prompted, losing his smile as well.

"I am not going to turn you into a wolf," she dropped almost casually.

Frodo slowly leaned back against the windowsill, his blue eyes guarded. "What is this all about?"

"I thought about it," she said. "And I just don't want to."

"Well, that is quite selfish, don't you think?" Frodo retorted. "I made my decision back then. If you are still worried about us losing our memories if the Blood leaves…"

"We were not thinking when we made that decision," Allie interrupted. "You are the Ring-bearer. You have a task assigned to you during this war, and that is to steal the Ring back. You can't do it as a wolf. The Ring will make you sick."

"Even if I drink the Ent water?" Frodo asked with narrowed eyes.

"Yes," she said, " do you remember how sick Pippin was when we rescued you from Barad-Dur?"

Frodo remained silent at this. It was true that he had not thought it through. A door of grief he thought had been closed for the time being was now being pushed open again.

He turned away from her to look out the window. Allie waited behind him for a long time, looking down at her feet, still wrapped in that rough blanket.

Finally, Frodo let out a sigh. When he faced her once more, he looked tired, almost haggard.

"Are you mad?" Allie asked in a small voice.

Frodo wiped at his face, and let out a hoarse laugh. "No, Allie. Strangely, I feel a bit relieved."

At this this Allie stared up into his blue eyes once more. Frodo shrugged a little. "If I have to be honest with myself, I started having some second thoughts as well."

"You did?"

Frodo's gaze held hers. "I don't know the joys of a pack like you do, Allie. I know your true family is with the wolves, but I suppose that mine is not. I am a hobbit at heart and that is who I will be till the day I die. But the main reason that I hesitated was because I started realizing that I don't want to risk losing all memories of me and you."

Frodo's eyes were suddenly full of aching love when he held her hand and pressed it to his lips: "If you are gone, it will hurt and I will be lonely, but I still want to remember you. I want to remember that night in the cabin with the lambskins, that time in Caradhras when you said you loved me for the first time." He caressed her trembling lip. "I want to remember the first time I saw you in that wild field of grass beside your Smial in Buckland. I even want to remember the times we fought or disagreed. I just want to remember that I love someone like you."

At this, she clenched her blanket a bit tighter. When she trusted that her voice would not break, she said: "You always know what to say to me, don't you, Frodo Baggins?"

He rested his hand on the small of her back, feeling the curve of her body underneath the blanket. "It's the truth."

Allie let go of her blanket, cupped his face with both hands and kissed him. As Frodo held her, the blanket slowly came loose from around her chest and glided down a few inches down her back.

When the kiss stopped, she was crying, but she was smiling too. And never did she look so beautiful to him than in that instant.

"All right," she whispered. "Let us make one more memory for you to remember, then."

Frodo nudged her nose with his as his heart started thumping a bit faster. "Really?"

"The best memory yet," she proclaimed ardently with a smile full of promises.

He pressed his palms against the burning skin of her back underneath that wild hair as she let her blanket glide all the way down to the floor, falling in a heap around her feet.

As they made love to each other, Allie truly wished this could be the last memory of them she left him with. It was a perfect moment, except perhaps for the thoughts in her head. But the way she touched him and he touched her back, the way she kissed him and he kissed her back, the way she racked her hand through his hair and the way he held her waist, they were all perfect in that moment that seemed to stand still in time.

Allie wished she could shelter him from everything that was going to happen after, but knew such a way did not exist.

And so she made love to him like it was their last time.

Afterwards, as they lay on his bed with their limbs tangled together and morning now well underway outside their window, Allie played with the half-moon pendant resting against his chest and said: "You said my true family is with the wolves and that is true. But my home is with you."

Frodo played with a strand of her hair with his eyes closed and a peaceful expression on his face. "What does that mean?"

She was pensive for a while, and then she was looking at him with those piercing grey eyes of hers: "I guess it means that I will always, always, return to you. Remember that as well, Frodo Baggins."

* * *

Hey guys!

Another long chapter. Well, since it takes me so long to update, I gotta make 'em long, right? XD If you are still reading this story, let me know you are still there! It means a lot of to me to hear from my readers, even if it's just to say hello :)

**Uchiha no Kaori:** Lol the fluff, yes the fluff! Thanks so much for loving the story! I think you are one of the few left who still follow it (at least, you're one of the few who still leaves comments), so for that, I'm really happy and grateful! Yes, I left the light of Earendil as a cliffhanger in the other chapter eh? It will come into play in the future, but maybe not in the way that you expect! ;) Or at least I think so, I don't know what you think is going to happen haha! Thanks for the comment! Take care!

**DesolationDeath:** Hi there! Thank you for your... 10 or so reviews! Wow, I was really amazed! Thanks for all the compliments and suggestions! Loved reading about them, especially those coming from earlier chapters, since I wrote those... years ago now, I guess! Wow, trip down memory lane at this point. I really have to go back to read some of my earlier chapters too haha. Anyway, I hope that you're still with me! Thank you!


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